THE   ROBERT  E.  COWAN  COLLECTION 

1'RKSKNTKH    TO    THK 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNI 

•HY 

C.  P.  HUNTINGTON 

.JUNE.  :d<>7. 


NC  76  /  y 


I 


THIRD     EDITION 


ALMIRANTB 


NATIVK. 


SAN  FRANCISCO: 

W.  M    HILTON  &  CO..  PRINTERS  AND  PUBLISHERS, 
536  CLAY  STREET,  BELOW  MONTGOMERY. 

iseo. 

THE  TRADK  Srri'i.iKD  BY 
THE  SAN   FilANCISCO  NEWS   COMPANY. 


PRIHF.    2R    CENTS: 


<'    W.   M.  AIT.K.  A..  S.  BALDWIN'  I;    1>    H  \MMo\n,  JR. 


MCAFEE,  BALDWIN  &  HAMMOND, 


I(eal  EgMe  ^gent$  and 


1O    MONTGOMERY    ST., 

SAN    FRANCISCO. 


JOHNSON-LOCKE  MERCANTILE  CO. 

Shipping  and  Commission  Merchants 


CORNER  CALIFORNIA  AM)  FRONT  STREETS, 

SAN     KRANCISCO. 


RAISINS  DRIED    FRUIT  PRUNES 

We  make  sales  of  California  products  in  San  Francisco,  also  through 
our  representatives  in  the  principal  cities  of  the  Eastern  States,  Europe 
and  Australia. 


E.  P.  SPENCE,  PEES.  D.  E.  MILES,  SEC'Y 

-INSURK    WITH- 
•••      •••      ••- 

SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA  INS.  CO. 

•••     •?•     •*• 
MAIN  OFFICE,  423  CALIFORNIA  ST. 

SAN    FRANCISCO,    CAL. 


The  Reputation  of  this  Company  for  the  prompt  payment 
and  Equitable  Adjustment  of  Losses  is  unexcelled 


Since  the  Cable  Road  from  OAKLAND  recently  climbed 
the  Suburban  Heights  to  PIEDMONT  investments  in  Resi 
dence  Lots  in  this  choice  direction  are  rapidly  growing  in 
public  favor. 

To    any   who   may   have   a   few   dollars   to   lay   away   in 
Profitable     ReJ     Estate     investments     in     or     roundabout 
OAKLAND  correspondence  is  solicited  by 
Truly  yours, 

XVirvT^IAM    J.     I>IJVOI£I£ 

....  REAL  ESTATE  .... 
46O  &  462  Eighth  St.  Oakland,  Cal. 


JUNE,  30,  1890. 

1 1   REGENT  STREET,  LONDON,  ENG. 
DEAR  SIR: 

We  beg  to  inform  you  that  we  have  taken  the  agency  for 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland  for  Messrs.  Arpad  Haraszthy  &  Go's 
celebrated  California  Champagnes,  of  which  we  shall  always 
keep  on  hand  a  full  supply  in  bottles  and  half  bottles  for  imme 
diate  delivery. 

These  Champagnes  are  produced  by  fermentation  in  the 
bottle,  precisely  as  the  high-grade  French  sparkling  wines, 
requiring  two  year's  cure  and  racking  to  perfect.  They  are 
blended  in  proportions  from  the  grape  of  nine  different  vari- 
ties  of  imported  vines,  transplanted  and  grown  in  carefully 
selected  localities  of  California. 

Whenever  tried  by  unprejudiced  connoisseurs,  these  wines 
have  been  pronounced  equal  to  the  best,  and  wherever  exhib 
ited  for  competition  with  any  other  Champagne,  either  French 
or  American,  their  merits  were  attested  by  the  highest  awards, 
as  exemplified  on  following  page. 

Soliciting  a  trial  of  these  really  meritorious  Champagnes, 
we  are, 

Respectfully  yours, 

GRIERSON,  OLDHAM  &  CO., 

1 1  Regent  Street. 


GENERAL    AGENTS 

London ORIEBSON.  OLDHAM  &  CO 11  Regent  Street 

New  York PARK  &  TILFORD 917  Broadway 

Philadelphia P   P.  DILLEY  &  CO 25  N.  Tenth  Street 

Chicago C   JEVNE  &  CO 110  Madison  Street 

St.  P»ul C.  JEVNE  &  CO 114  E.  Third  Street 

Detroit O.  &  R.  McMILLAN  &  CO 131  Woodward  Arenuc 

Cincinnati JOHN  R.  PEEBLES'  SONS  CO 73  W.  Fourth  Street 

KaiaasOity MARTIN.  PERRIN  &  CO 300  W.  Sixth  Street 

New  Orleans F.  HOLLANDER  &  CO 51  Ciutom  House  Strett 

Honolulu,  H.  I HE.VRY  CONGDON  &  OO... 


ALMIRANTE 


^MflWW* 

'>..  v^.; 


\v     \» 

I  saw  the  sunlight  flashing  on  the  points  of  their  spears." 


PAGE  93. 


ALMIRANTE 


A  ROMANCE  OF  OLD-TIME  CALIFORNIA, 


BY 


"A   NATIVE. 


S AN  FRANCISCO: 

W.  M.  HINTON  &  CO.,  PKINTEKS  AND  PUBLISHERS, 

536  CLAY  STREET,  BELOW  MONTGOMERY. 

18©O. 

THE  TRADE  SUPPLIED  BV 
THE  SAN  FRANCISCO  NEWS  COMPANY. 


COPYRIGHT* 
\V.   M.  HlNTON  &  C<X 

J890. 


Or  TBK 

UNIVERSITY 


ALMIRANTE 


A    ROMANCE    OF    OLD-TIME    CALIFORNIA 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  RESCUE. 

It  was  the  most  disagreeable  night  I  had  yet 
experienced  at  sea.  The  waves,  though  not  par 
ticularly  high,  were  sufficiently  so  to  render  footing 
uncertain,  while  a  cold,  gray  haze  enveloped  the  ship 
like  the  folds  of  a  shroud.  Objects  distant  but  the 
width  of  the  vessel  could  scarcely  be  distinguished, 
and  when  occasionally  a  sailor  moved  silently  about 
the  deck,  there  was  something  startlingly  phantom-like 
in  the  appearance  of  the  shadowy  form. 

I  was  standing  by  the  bulwarks  in  the  fore  part  of 
the  ship,  clinging  to  the  rail,  and  suffering  myself  to 
rise  and  fall  with  the  vessel  without  motion  of  my 
own,  while  I  stared  blankly  out  into  the  fog.  Such  a 
night  would  have  inclined  the  merriest  mind  to  sad 
ness,  but  to  me,  who  for  many  long  months  had  had 

i 


4  ALM1RANTE 

no  subject  for  meditation  save  what  was  of  the  most 
melancholy  character,  it  brought  a  sense  of  indescrib 
able  loneliness. 

It  was  over  a  year  since  I,  a  sickly,  despondent, 
almost  despairing  youth  of  twenty-one,  lately  orphaned 
by  the  sudden  death  of  both  my  parents,  had  em 
barked  at  New  Bedford  on  board  the  whaler  Philip 
for  a  three  years'  cruise  in  the  Pacific.  The  com 
mander  of  the  vessel,  Captain  Trueman,  had  been 
my  father's  companion  in  childhood,  and  his  shipmate 
thereafter  for  many  years,  in  fact  until  both  became 
masters.  It  was  therefore  a  more  than  ordinary 
friendship  he  felt  for  me,  and  when  my  health,  natur 
ally  delicate,  showed  signs  of  giving  way  altogether 
under  the  shock  of  the  severest  affliction  my  life  had 
known,  he  insisted  upon  my  accompanying  him  to 
sea,  in  the  hope  of  rousing  me  from  my  state  of 
despondent  lethargy.  I  gladly  accepted  the  offer. 
I  had  no  near  relatives.  What  little  property  my 
parents  had  left  was  soon  converted  into  money,  and, 
except  a  me  derate  sum  reserved  for  my  occasional 
necessities,  deposited  in  a  Boston  bank  —and  within 
three  months  we  had  set  sail. 

We  had  now,  as  I  have  stated,  been  at  sea  over  a 
year,  and  were  at  present  in  the  Pacific,  off  the 
Mexican  province  of  California.  The  voyage  had 
been  of  service  to  me  in  every  way.  My  frame  had 


THE  RESCUE  5 

filled  out  and  strengthened  Mv  health  had  become 
perfect ;  and  my  mind,  if  not  cheerful,  had  at  least 
grown  resigned. 

But  there  was  something  in  the  night  I  have 
attempted  to  describe  which  Drought  back  every  dark 
image  of  the  past,  and  my  reverie  became  at  last  so 
intensely  mournful  that  the  sigh  with  which  I  finally 
aroused  myself  was  more  like  a  groan.  It  was  echoed 
near  at  hand,  and  I  became  suddenly  aware  that  I 
was  no  longer  alone. 

Manuel,  a  dark-haired,  dark-eyed  youth  of  Span, 
ish  blood,  whom  we  had  taken  on  board  at  a  South 
American  port,  had  crept  noiselessly  near,  and  now 
stood  beside  me,  clinging  in  a  half-kneeling  attitude 
to  the  bulwarks.  His  lips  were  moving  as  if  in 
prayer,  but  the  look  in  his  upturned  eyes,  as  the  light 
of  a  lantern  shone  full  in  his  face,  partook  so  much 
more  of  horror  than  devotion  that  I  involuntarily 
interrupted  him. 

"Manue?,  what  is  it?" 

I  spoke  in  Spanish,  which  I  had  learned  to  use 
with  considerable  fluency,  and  he  answered  me  in  the 
same  tongue 

"O,  Senor !  do  you  not  hear  it? — that  music — 
that  dreadful  music?" 

"Music?     You  are  dreaming!" 

"A'.i,  no.     Listen!" 


6  ALMIRAMTE 

Awed,  in  spite  of  myself,  by  his  manner,  I  strained 
my  hearing  to  the  utmost,  and  it  did  indeed  seem 
that,  above  the  wash  of  the  waves,  there  could  be 
distinguished  a  faint,  weird  strain  of  melody 

"  Heavens  !     What  is  it  ?*'  I  exclaimed. 

"  Ah  Senor,  do  you  not  know  ?  It  is  the  hymn 
for  the  dying,  but  sung  by  no  mortal  tongues. 
Mother  of  God,  have  mercy  on  our  souls  .  It  is 
meant  for  us." 

With  difficulty  shaking  off  the  dread  which  op 
pressed  me,  I  opened  my  lips  to  reply,  but  was 
silenced  before  I  had  spoken  a  word.  The  other 
noises  of  the  night  had  suddenly  lulled,  and,  in  the 
momentary  interval  of  silence  which  succeeded,  the 
same  wild  strain  of  indescribably  weird  and  mel 
ancholy  music  ro?e  again  on  the  air,  but  now  clear 
and  distinct,  and  apparently  near  at  hand. 

For  a  moment  there  was  not  a  breath  drawn  on 
the  ship,  for,  unknown  to  me,  the  entire  crew  had 
come  on  deck;  then  a  deep,  strong  voice  exclaimed: 

"Wake  up,  lads,  and  look  alive !  It's  some  vessel 
in  distress.  The  fog  conceals  her." 

It  was  Captain  Trueman  who  spoke,  and  so  entirely 
did  he  possess  the  confidence  of  his  crew  that  not  a 
man  hesitated  for  an  instant  to  accept  his  explanation 
of  what  had  the  moment  before  seemed  so  appalling 


THE  RESCUE  7 

a  mystery.  Moved  by  a  common  and  simultaneous 
impulse,  all  shouted  aioud: 

"Ship  ahoy!" 

But  the  wind  had  risen  again  and  there  was  no 
reply,  though  we  still  heard  the  chant,  but  faintly. 

11  Poor  devils  !"  said  the  Captain.  "They're  too 
much  taken  up  with  their  own  noise  to  heed  ours. 
Fire  a  gun." 

It  was  done  immediately,  and  as  the  deep,  dull 
boom  thundered  out  on  the  night  the  music  suddenly 
ceased.  An  instant  later  there  was  a  wild,  confused 
cry,  followed  a  moment  after  by  a  loud  report. 
Another  and  another  succeeded,  and  we  were  now 
fortunately  enabled  to  distinguish  the  direction  from 
which  the  sounds  proceeded.  The  Philip  was  im 
mediately  allowed  to  fall  away  until  she  sailed  in  a 
direction  almost  at  right  angles  to  her  former  course. 
Our  progress  was  now  much  more  rapid,  and,  guided 
by  the  continuous  shouting  of  the  distressed  crew,  we 
swiftly  neared  their  vessel,  and  her  glimmering  lights 
were  soon  visible  through  the  fog.  As  we  drew  nearer 
we  could  dimly  diicern  what  appeared  to  be  a  craft 
of  small  size,  lying  very  low  in  the  water  and  ap 
parently  foundering.  The  roughness  of  the  sea 
rendering  it  unadvisable  to  run  alongside,  Captain 
Trueman  hailed,  in  Spanish  : 

'•  Man  your  boats  and  come  on  board." 


8  ALM1KANTE 

An  answer  came  bark,  partly  lost  in  the  confusion 
of  other  sounds,  but  \ve  were  able  to  distinguish — 
"  Boats  lost — have  none." 

"  Then  wait  and  we'll  come  to  you,"  shouted  the 
Captain,  adding  energetically  to  his  crew  :  "  Be  lively, 
boys.  The  first  three  boats.  There's  not  an  instant 
to  lose." 

The  boats  were  lowered  almost  in  an  instant,  their 
crews  sprang  into  them,  and  in  an  incredibly  short 
space  of  time  the  three  shell- like  crafts  were  dancing 
against  the  side  cf  the  sinking  vessel.  As  each  boat 
had  its  full  crew  of  able  and  skillful  men,  the  Captain 
had  not  accepted  my  offer  to  go  in  one  of  them,  and 
I  was,  therefore,  for  the  time  relegated  to  the  position 
of  spectator.  draining  my  eyes  in  the  endeavor  to 
pierce  through  the  mist,  I  could  dimly  see  our  sailors 
helping  the  forlorn  strangers  into  the  boats,  and  soon 
the  words — "All  right !  give  way — back  to  the  ship  !" 
told  me  that  all  was  ready  for  the  return.  A  moment 
later  they  came  alongside,  rescued  and  rescuers  were 
helped  on  board,  the  boats  were  hoisted  in,  -and  all 
preparations  made  to  stand  en  in  our  former  course 
once  more.  Then  from  the  midst  of  the  strangers 
who,  something  over  a  score  in  all,  stood  grouped 
about  a  tall,  stern-faced  individual  of  Spanish  aspect, 
broke  an  old  man  who  seemed  a  servai.t,  exclaiming 
wiiuiy  : 


THE   RESCUE  9 

"Carlos,  Carlos!  Mother  of  God!  where  is  he? 
Don  Ramon  Estrada,  speak  !  Where  is  my  master's 
son  ?" 

The  man  called  Estrada  started  at  the  question, 
which  from  its  tone  seemed  almost  an  accusation,  and 
answered  hastily  : 

"Carlos!  Is  he  not  here  with  us?  Surely  he 
came  in  the  boats  ?" 

The  old  man  beat  his  breast  in  anguish.  "  O  mi 
Dios  !  he  is  lost.  He  lay  beside  us  on  the  deck, 
weak  and  fainting  from  exhaustion.  He  has  been 
forgotten — he  is  dead  1  O,  Don  Ramon!  surely  you, 
his  kinsman — " 

A  cry  of  horror  from  one  of  our  own  sailors 
interrupted  him,  and  attracted  the  attention  of  all. 
He  was  standing  beside  the  bulwarks,  pointing  astern. 
The  fog  seemed  to  have  grown  less  dense,  and  a 
dreadful  sight  met  our  gaze.  The  wreck  was  appar 
ently  in  the  very  act  of  disappearing  beneath  the 
waves,  and  upon  the  deck  stood  a  slender  form  with 
long,  streaming  hair,  and  arms  extended  towards  us 
in  despairing  appeal.  Even  as  we  looked  he  flung 
himself  into  the  sea. 

The  sailors  sprang  to  a  boat  without  waiting  for 
orders. 

tf  Lower  away — lower  away!"  screamed  the  Cnp- 
taln.  "For  Goa's  sake,  be  quick  1  But  they  will  never 


OF   THK 

UNIVERSITY 


io  ALMIRANTE 

reach  him  in  time,"  he  added,  sadly  and  in  an 
undertone,  to  me. 

A  sudden  resolve  awoke  within  me,  and  in  an 
instant  casting  off  my  heavy  jacket  and  low,  slipper- 
like  shoes,  I  plunged  headlong  overboard  and  struck 
out  for  the  spot  where  I  knew  the  youth  to  be  strug 
gling.  I  had  in  the  last  year  become  an  expert 
swimmer,  and,  having  a  long  start  of  the  boat,  I  did 
not  despair  of  being  in  time.  Nor  was  I  disappointed 
in  my  expectations.  I  reached  the  stranger,  but  only  as 
he  was  sinking.  His  long  hair  floated  on  the  surface, 
and  winding  one  hand  in  this,  I  swam  for  the  ship. 
In  a  moment  my  arm  was  seized,  both  my  charge  and 
myself  were  lifted  into  the  boat,  and  but  a  brief 
interval  elapsed  before  we  were  handed  on  board  the 
Philip.  As  in  a  dream  I  stood  upon  the  deck  and 
saw  the  sailors  crowd  around  me,  cheering  madly, 
while  Captain  Trueman  stepped  forward  and  seized 
my  hand,  warmly  exclaiming  : 

"  Well  done,  my  boy.     You  have  saved  him  !" 

Then  the  Mexican,  Don  Ramon,  who  had  been 
kneeling  beside  the  youth,  as  he  lay,  weak  and  help 
less,  before  us,  rose  to  his  feet,  saying  in  tones  which 
even  at  that  moment  impressed  me  as  fraught  with 
no  gratitude — "  Yes,  you  have  saved  him.'* 

He  stood  erect  now,  exactly  opposite  me,  and  a 
lantern  held  by  a  sailor  illuminated  both  our  faces. 


THE  RESCUE  u 

"  Jesu  Maria  !"  exclaimed  Don  Ramon,  turning 
ashy  pale.  Then  as  he  stepped  suddenly  back,  his 
lips  moved  again,  and  did  I  or  did  I  not  hear  him. 
mutter,  half  under  his  breath,  in  a  tone  of  mingled 
rage  and  horror:  "  Alfred  Rivers  !" 


12  ALMIRANTE 


CHAPTER   II. 

TREACHERY. 

Whether  it  was  that  the  words  were  not  heard  by 
others,  I  do  not  know,  but  at  the  time  no  one  else 
seemed  to  notice  the  singularity  of  this  evident  recog 
nition,  and  in  a  moment  the  Mexican,  recovering 
himself,  seized  my  hand,  exclaiming  with  what 
seemed  to  me  a  somewhat  forced  enthusiasm: 

"  Senor,  you  have  done  a  deed  which  for  bravery 
can  never  be  surpassed.  Accept  the  thanks,  the 
fervent  gratitude,  of  a  man  who  holds  far  dearer  than 
his  own  the  life  of  this  loved  young  kinsman  I" 

Without  giving  me  time  to  reply,  he  turned  to 
Captain  Trueman  and  continued  : 

"To  you  also,  Senor  Capitan,  our  gratitude  is  due, 
since,  but  for  the  prompt  and  daring  aid  of  yourself 
and  your  galhint  crew,  not  a  soul  of  us  would  now  be 
alive.  We  are  all  of  the  province  of  California,  but 
are  now  seven  weeks  out  from  Manilla,  whither  we 
have  been  to  meet  and  bring  home  my  young  kins 
man,  Carlos,  who  has  of  late  years  been  receiving 
instruction  in  Spain.  That  vessel  was  his  father's, 
her  mariners  were  his  servants.  For  four  days  we 
have  been  slowly  sinking.  We  could  find  no  leak> 


TREACHERY  13, 

and,  in  spite  of  all  our  efforts,  the  water  gained  on  us 
steadily.  To-night  we  gave  up  in  despair,  andr 
assembling  upon  the  deck,  commended  our  souls  to 
God.  But  the  Virgin  sent  you  to  our  aid,  and  in  the 
midst  of  our  devotions  the  sound  of  your  gun  told  us 
of  the  succor  the  mist  prevented  our  seeing.  For 
the  present  I  can  only  repeat  my  thanks.  Before 
long,  to  those  who  will  receive  it,  I  hope  to  render 
more  substantial  token  of  my  gratitude/' 

Captain  Trueman  made  some  deprecating  reply,, 
and  busied  himself  with  the  care  of  our  unexpected 
guests.  There  was  plenty  of  room  about  the  vessel, 
as  we  had  not  yet  taken  in  any  quantity  of  oil,  and 
after  those  who  were  wet  had  been  supplied  with  dry 
clothing,  all  were  stowed  away  very  comfortably  to 
seek  the  rest  they  so  much  needed.  The  Captain, 
however,  had  first  ascertained  that  their  destination. 
was  the  port  of  San  Francisco,  and,  as  it  did  not 
materially  interfere  with  his  plans  to  cruise  in  that 
direction,  he  at  once  gave  the  necessary  orders. 

The  next  day  dawned  bright  and  lovelv,  and  our 
vessel,  with  all  sails  set,  glided  over  the  rippling  sea 
with  a  gentleness  of  movement  delightful  to  experi 
ence.  The  rescued  Mexicans  enjoyed  it  greatly. 
They  were  nearly  all  on  deck,  and  in  the  reaction 
from  the  exhaustion  and  despair  of  the  previous  night 
were  inclined  to  be  somewhat  uproarious  in  their 


14  A LM  IRAN IE 

good  humor.     Two,  however,  of  a  different   station 

than  the  rest,  were  more  self-contained — Don  Ramon 

and    his  kinsman,  Carlos.     To  the  latter  I  took  an 

immediate  liking.     He  was  not  yet  twenty  years  of 

age,    dark-eyed    and   with    a    face   of  almost    girlish 

beauty,  framed  in  wavy  masses  of  raven  hair.     Quiet 

and  reserved  in  his  manner,  there  was,  nevertheless, 

something  in  the  few  faltering  words  with  which  he 

thanked   me   that   morning   for   my  services   of  the 

night  before   which  impressed  me  as  volumes  of  his 

cousin's   ready  eloquence  could  not  have  done.     It 

was  evident  he  fully  reciprocated  my  regard,  and  I 

promised  myself  many  pleasant  hours  in  his  company 

when  he  should  be  able  to  come  on  deck.  At  present 

he   was    confined    to    his    berth,    and    in   a    state  of 

extreme  weakness — the  result,  as  we  understood,  of 

violent  and  long  continued  exposure  at  the  pumps  of 

the   lost   vessel.      Captain   Trueman,    who    was    the 

surgeon  as  well  as  the  master  of  the  Philip,  prescribed 

absolute  rest  and  quiet  for  the  boy,  so,  beyond  a  few 

words     of    greeting   and    inquiry  on   my   part    that 

morning,    and  the   feeble  but  feeling  expression  of 

thanks  to  which  I  have  already  alluded,  we  had  no 

conversation  at  all.    But  I  looked  in  upon  him  often, 

never  failing,  when  he  was  awake,  to  be  greeted  by  a 

winning  smile  and  a  glance  from  his  dark  eyes  which 

was  eloquent  of  gratitude. 


TREACHERY  15 

Don  Ramon  remained  a  source  of  bewilderment 
to  me.  Suave  and  courteous  to  a  degree,  he  speedily 
won  the  regard  of  every  one  on  the  ship — every  one 
save  myself.  I  could  scarcely  analyze  my  own  feelings 
regarding  him.  Distrust  predominated.  In  every 
smiling  look  and  courteous  word  I  fancied  I  could 
detect  hypocrisy.  Once  or  twice,  moreover,  I  found 
him  covertly  glancing  at  me,  with  an  expression 
which  I  could  not  but  believe  savored  of  malignant 
hatred.  I  attempted  to  dismiss  the  idea  as  absurd, 
but  without  success.  The  remembrance  of  what  I 
had  deemed  his  unmistakable  recognition  of  me 
lingered  uneasily  in  my  mind  in  spite  of  the  unsatis 
factory  explanation  he  had  afforded  me  regarding  the 
circumstance.  I  had  naturally  taken  the  earliest 
opportunity  to  inquire  concerning  it,  receiving  a 
reply,  delivered  without  the  slightest  appearance  of 
hesitation,  to  the  effect  that  the  surprise  he  had 
manifested  was  entirely  owing  to  his  discovering  that 
I,  whom,  from  the  skill  and  hardihood  I  had  evinced, 
he  had  fancied  some  rough,  storm-beaten  old  sailor, 
was  hardly  more  than  a  boy.  As  to  his  having  uttered 
my  name,  that  was  but  a  fancy  of  my  own  imagina 
tion  He  even  seemed  amused  at  the  suggestion. 

;>  I  have  never  in  my  life,"  he  said,  smilingly, 
"been  in  New  England.  You  tell  me  that  until 
this  voyage  you  have  been  nowhere  else.  It  is 


16  ALMIRANTE 

scarcely  likely,  then,  is  it,  that  I  could  have  had  the 
honor  of  Seiior  Rivers'  acquaintance  before?" 

Trie  air  of  perfect  frankness  with  which  the  explan 
ation  was  offered  went  far  to  render  it  plausible. 
Nevertheless,  I  hoped  that  before  we  should  reach 
port  an  opportunity  might  occur  to  enable  me  to 
learn  something  further  and  more  satisfactory. 

The  opportunity  came  that  very  night,  much 
sooner  than  I  had  expected,  and  the  attendant  cir 
cumstances  were  as  wholly  unlooked-for. 

I  had  never  been  attached  to  any  regular  watch 
on  board  the  P.'iilip,  and  was,  consequently,  not 
obliged  to  come  on  deck  at  night — nevertheless,  I 
often  chose  to  do  so.  Upon  this  occasion,  feeling 
restless  and  disinclined  to  sleep,  I  did  not  go  to  my 
berth  at  all,  and  one  o'clock  found  me  standing  by 
the  bulwarks  very  near  the  spot  I  had  occupied  the 
previous  night,  and  under  almost  the  same  circum 
stances,  for  the  weather  had  changed  agiin  and  grown 
thick  and  foggy,  though  the  sea  was  not  rough.  The 
members  of  the  watch  were  lounging  idly  about,  there 
being  no  occasion  for  any  special  alertness,  since  the 
vessel  was  sailing  on  an  even  keel  with  a  breeze  both 
gentle  and  steady.  Nona  of  the  sailors  were  in  my 
immediate  vicinity,  and  he  who  at  length  interrupted 
my  meditations  was  the  Mexican,  Don  Ramon. 
His  step  was  so  noiseless  that  he  was  at  my  side 


TREACHERY  17 

"before  I  was  aware  of  his  approach,  and,  in  the 
murky  obscurity  of  the  Anight,  it  was  only  by  his  voice 
that  I  recognized  him. 

"  Senor  Rivers?"  he  said,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes,  Senor,"  I  answered,  and  he  continued,  in 
Spanish : 

"  Pardon  me  that  I  disturb  your  reflections,  for 
you  seem  in  a  musing  mood." 

"  I  am  sometimes  liable  to  fall  into  such,  Senor," 
said  I. 

"As  are  we  all,'-' he  answered.  "And  you.  Senor 
Rivers,  have  this  night  a  special  subject  for  medi 
tation." 

I  started  and  gazed  earnestly  toward  him,  but  his 
features  were  indistinguishable,  and  in  a  perfectly 
•calm  and  unmoved  voice  he  went  on : 

"  You  are  thinking  of  the  explanation  I  offered 
you  this  morning.  It  was  unsatisfactory,  and  you 
feel  it  to  be  so.  Am  I  not  right  ?" 

(t  Senor,  I  cannot  deny  it." 

/'  Then  again,"  he  continued,  in  the  same  cool, 
even  tone,  "you  fancy  I  have  some  secret  reason  for 
disliking  you.  Do  1  still  interpret  your  thoughts?" 

"You  do." 

"Alfred  Rivers,  you  are  right  in  this  at  least.  I  do 
dislike  you — I  hate  you  !  You  did  me  one  bad  ser- 


i8  ALMIRANTE 

vice    last    night,    but,   more    thnn    that,    your    very 
existence  is  a  wrong  to  me — Now-JoseT' 

His  voice  had  grown  lower  and  lower,  and  the  last 
words  were  but  a  whisper.  As  it  was  uttered  I  heard 
a  movement  behind  me,  but  before  I  could  turn  or 
utter  a  sound  a  heavy  blow  descended  with  crushing 
force  upon  my  head.  Blinded,  stunned  and  half  par 
alyzed,  unable  to  defend  myself  or  call  for  aid,  I  sank 
helplessly  against  the  bulwarks,  and  an  instant  later 
felt  myself  lifted  in  some  one's  arms  and  flung  over 
the  side.  Even  in  falling,  and  in  spite  of  the  burning 
pain  and  deathly  sickness  that  oppressed  me,  I  heard 
the  cry—1'  Man  overboard!" — uttered  in  Spanish,  and 
in  the  voice  of  that  black-hearted  fiend  who  had  so 
foully  sought  my  life.  Then  the  blackness  of  death 
seemed  to  close  around  me,  and,  like  one  already 
bereft  of  life,  I  sank  into  the  sea. 


SAVED  19 


CHAPTER   III. 

SAVED. 

A  blank,  black  interval  of  utter  darkness  and  in 
sensibility,  though  whether  long  or  short  I  have  no 
means  of  knowing.  A  dim  and  gradual  awakening 
to  a  consciousness  of  pain.  Then  a  faint  sense  of 
motion — of  being  lifted  and  let  fall  alternately.  An 
undefined  idea  of  chilliness — undefined  at  first,  but 
gradually  becoming  clear.  At  last  a  full  and  horrible 
awakening. 

I  found  myself  floating  in  the  sea,  supported  by  a 
small  piece  of  broken  spar,  around  which  my  arms 
were  fast  locked.  Subsequent  reflection  convinced 
me  that  it  was  the  very  weapon  with  which  I  had  been 
so  treacherously  struck  down,  and  which  my  assailants 
had  doubtless  flung  overboard  to  hide  the  traces  of 
their  crime.  It  had  proved  the  immediate  means  of 
my  preservation,  though  at  the  time  I  was  far  from 
comprehending  this.  Flinging  my  arms  about  the 
spar  had  doubtless  been  my  last  mechanical  and 
instinctive  act  as  I  lost  consciousness,  and  my  body, 
naturally  buoyant  to  an  unusual  degree,  had  needed 
no  other  support. 


20  ALMIRANTE 

But  my  situation  was  desperate  in  the  extreme, 
and  as  the  full  realization  of  its  horror  gradually 
worked  itself  into  my  mind,  a  feeling  of  utter  despair 
overcame  me.  The  ship  was  nowhere  in  sight, 
though  had  she  been  within  fifty  yards  it  would  have 
been  impossible  to  discover  her,  such  was  the  dark 
ness  of  the  night  and  the  thickness  of  the  fog.  I 
called  aloud  repeatedly,  but  received  no  answer,  and 
since  the  vessel  was  out  of  hearing  she  was  as  remote, 
so  far  as  aiding  me  was  concerned,  as  if  at  the  anti 
podes.  To  add  to  the  hopelessness  of  my  situation, 
the  waves  appeared  to  be  rising,  and  occasionally  one 
with  a  slight  curling  crest  broke  against  my  face, 
almost  strangling  me,  and  awakening  horrible 
thoughts  as  to  how  long  it  would  be  until  the  billows 
should  become  sufficiently  high  to  roll  over  and 
engulf  me.  My  head  pained  dreadfully,  and  more 
than  once,  when  sickening  spasms  of  deathly  faint- 
ness  would  at  times  oppress  me,  I  was  tempted  to  let 
myself  sink,  and  end  life  and  pain  together.  But 
worthier  impulses  prevailed. 

After  a  time,  I  must  have  once  more  relapsed  into 
insensibility,  or,  if  under  the  circumstances  such  a 
thing  were  possible,  have  fallen  asleep,  for  my  next 
recollection  is  of  opening  my  eyes  with  a  sudden 
start,  to  find  that  it  was  broad  day,  the  sun  well  up  in 
a  cloudless  sky,  and  the  fog  which  had  enveloped 


SAVED  21 

^everything  the  night  before  lying  in  a  long,  low,  thick 
bank  far  to  one  side.  What  might  be  concealed 
behind  that  veil  I  of  course  could  not  tell,  but  in  no 
other  direction  was  there  either  land  or  ship  in  sight. 
A  new  torment  now  assailed  me.  The  sun,  as  it 
rose  higher,  shone  down  with  tropical  fierceness  upon 
my  uncovered  head,  and  the  pain  of  my  wound 
increased  four-fold,  while  a  burning  thirst  tortured 
me,  though  as  yet  I  felt  no  hunger.  In  vain  I 
plunged  my  head  again  and  again  into  the  sea.  It 
appeared  to  give  no  relief,  and  the  pain  grew  intoler 
able.  Delirium  gradually  overcame  me.  I  have  dim 
and  confused  recollections  of  screaming  and  shrieking 
wildly ;  of  turning  my  mad  and  burning  eyes  toward 
the  fog-bank,  and  longing  for  its  cool  shelter.  1 
remember  frantic  and  insane  struggles  to  swim  to  it, 
though  it  was  miles  away ;  then  periods  of  silent 
torpor  and  despairing  inaction  from  which  I  would 
suddenly  arouse  to  curse  and  scream  in  agony,  or 
burst  into  shrieks  of  mad  laughter.  At  last  came 
merciful  unconsciousness. 


A  large,  flat  surface,  an  irregular  square  in  shape, 
inclosed  by  a  low,  notched  parapet  of  masonry,  and 
floored  with  what  appeared  to  be  cement.  A  vast 
array  of  flowering  shrubs,  growing  in  all  manner  of 


22  ALMIRANTE 

rude  but  strongly  made  receptacles  for  earth.  A 
dark-haired  girl  of  lovely  face  and  slender  figure^ 
seated  upon  a  low  ottoman,  and  leaning  in  a  pensive 
attitude  against  the  parapet,  while  her  eyes  appeared 
to  be  turned  to  where,  far  in  the  distance  and  beyond 
the  intervening  hills,  could  be  discerned  the  blue 
and  sun-lit  surface  of  the  sea.  This  was  the  scene 
upon  which  I  next  turned  conscious  eyes. 

I  found  myself  reclining  upon  a  low  couch,  a  num 
ber  of  cushions  and  pillows  about  my  head  and 
shoulders  propping  me  up  in  such  a  position  that  my 
face  was  turned  toward  the  sea.  All  my  surroundings 
were  unfamiliar,  as  was  the  strange  and  fancifully 
cut  clothing  which  I  wore,  and  my  sensations  upon 
opening  my  eyes  were  as  of  awakening  from  an 
unusually  long  and  sound  sleep.  That  some  of  its 
phantasma  yet  lingered  before  my  sight  was  my  first 
thought,  as  my  amazed  eyes  swept  slowly  around  me, 
to  become  fixed  and  riveted  upon  her  who,  in  her 
wonderful  loveliness,  seemed  much  more  likely  to  be 
a  creature  of  the  imagination  than  of  reality.  She 
seemed  entirely  unaware  of  the  close  attention  with 
which  I  was  regarding  her,  and  sat  motionless  as  if 
sunk  in  an  absorbing  reverie.  Her  head  was  turned 
partly  away,  which  did  not  prevent  my  observing  the 
perfect  contour  of  her  features  nor  the  exquisite  fair 
ness  of  her  complexion.  Her  lustrous  brown  hair 


SAVED 


•was  drawn  back  from  her  forehead,  and  allowed  to 
flow  loosely  over  her  neck  and  shoulders,  falling  even 
below  her  waist.  Her  eyes  I  could  not  see,  and 
while  I  lay  there,  drinking  in,  so  to  speak,  the  details 
of  her  beauty,  I  felt  an  impatient  longing  to  have  her 
turn  her  gaze  toward  me. 

Nor  was  my  desire  long  ungratified,  for,  apparently 
becoming  aware  that  I  was  watching  her,  she  turned 
suddenly  and  fixed  two  large,  soft  brown  eyes  full 
upon  my  own.  For  a  moment  no  word  was  spoken  ; 
then,  feeling  the  silence  becoming  embarrassing,  I 
said : 

"Pardon  me,  Senorita,  but  may  I  ask — " 

She  interrupted  me,  springing  suddenly  up  and 
exclaiming,  with  clasped  hands  and  upturned  eyes : 

"Holy  Mother  of  God!  thou  hast  saved  him. 
Blessings  on  thy  name  !" 

Then,  coming  swiftly  to  my  side,  she  spoke 
again  in  tones  of  the  kindliest  inquiry  : 

"Oh,  Senor,  and  has  the  cruel  delirium  at  last 
left  you  ?  Are  you  truly  recovering  from  this  sad 
illness  ?'' 

"  Delirium— illness  !     Have  I  then  been  ill  ?" 

"  111 !  Ah,  Santa  Maria  !  if  you  knew  how  ill!  For 
days  we  despaired  of  your  life,  and  it  is  only  since 
yesterday  that  we  have  dared  to  hope  for  your  recov 
ery,  but  now,  thanks  to  heaven,  you  are  sa"e,  and  will 


24  ALM1KANTE 

soon  be  well.  But  I  must  not  talk  thus  to  you,  for 
you  are  too  weak  to  listen.  Padre  Francisco  will  be 
angry." 

"  Padre  Francisco  ?     Who  is  he  ?" 

"  Our  chaplain  and  my  friend — the  best  I  have  on 
earth  except  my  father  and  my  brother.  He  has  been 
your  doctor,  and  you  owe  your  life  to  him.  But  I 
will  go  and  call  him  now,  for  if  I  talk  to  you  longer 
you  will  be  ill  again." 

She  was  moving  away,  but  I  made  a  weak  attempt 
to  arise,  exclaiming : 

"Stay,  Senorita,  I  beg  of  you,  but  a  moment. 
Your  talking  cannot  do  me  harm,  but  suspense  and 
bewilderment  may.  Tell  me,  I  pray,  before  you  go, 
where  I  am  and  how  I  came  here." 

"You  are  at  the  hacienda  of  my  father,  Don 
Hernando  Almirante.  It  is  two  weeks  since  you 
were  found  senseless  and  almost  without  life  upon  the 
beach,  yonder  where  you  see  the  sea.  Our  peons 
brought  you  here,  and  we  have  done  what  we  could 
to  restore  you  to  health." 

"But  how  do  I  happen  to  be  lying  here  upon  the 
roof — for  this  is  the  roof,  is  is  not?" 

"Ah,  that  seemed  the  saddest  of  all,  but  I  will  tell 
you.  For  three  days  after  you  were  brought  herei 
you  lay  in  a  kind  of  stupor,  saying  nothing  and  taking 
no  heed  of  any  one.  You  would  eat  nothing  except 


SAVED  a$ 

it  were  placed  in  your  mouth,  and  then  but  the  least 
particle.  At  last  you  began  to  talk,  and  raved  wildly 
in  English,  which  Padre  Francisco  understands, 
about  your  old  home  in  New  England,  and  how  you 
could  look  upon  the  sea  from  your  father's  door. 
It  was  always  in  your  thoughts,  and  you  seemed  to 
long  to  gaze  upon  it.  At  last,  as  you  grew  worse, 
Padre  Francisco  said  the  sight  of  the  ocean  might 
possibly  calm  your  delirium.  So  they  carried  you  up 
here,  and  then — ah,  Senor,  how  sad  it  seemed  ! — as 
you  saw  the  sun  shining  upon  the  waves,  you  clasped 
your  hands  over  your  eyes,  cursing  the  sunlight,  and 
calling  for  the  mist  to  come  and  shelter  you  from  the 
heat  that  was  killing  you.  But  when  they  brought 
you  to  your  chamber  again,  you  called  for  the  sea ; 
and  thus  it  has  been,  day  after  day — never  contented 
away  from  it,  but  moaning  at  the  sight  of  it;  It  was 
pitiful." 

Her  voice  faltered,  and  the  soft  luster  of  her  eyes 
was  for  a  moment  dimmed.  Then  she  continued  : 

"Yesterday  you  were  calmer,  and  to-day  what  we 
had  been  hoping  for  came  to  pass — you  fell  into  a 
sound  sleep.  Heretofore,  you  have  slept  but  for  the 
briefest  periods,  and  it  has  seemed  more  the  stupor 
of  exhaustion.  From  this  slumber  the  Padre  hoped 
you  would  awake  in  your  right  mind,  and,  as  it 
promised  to  be  long,  he  left  me  to  watch,  and  went  to 


26  ALMIRANTE 

seek  the  rest  he  himself  greatly  needs.  The  servants 
I  did  not  allow  to  remain,  lest  their  awkwardness 
should  disturb  you.  Now,  Senor,  I  have  told  you 
all,  and  I  must  go  for  Padre  Francisco." 

"Stay,  Senorita,"  said  I  again,  detaining  her,  "  do 
not  disturb  the  good  father,  since,  as  you  say,  he  should 
have  rest.  I  do  not  at  present  need  his  kind  ministra 
tions,  and  my  thanks  for  his  faithful  services  can  be 
given  him  when  he  awakens.  But  meanwhile  let  me 
thank  you  —  you  to  whom,  though  you  have  said 
nothing  to  indicate  it,  I  yet  dare  believe  I  owe  an 
equal  if  not  greater  debt  of  gratitude." 

I  would  have  said  more,  but  she  laid  her  hand 
lightly  on  my  arm,  saying  in  her  pure  and  gentle 
tones : 

"When  I  was  a  little  child,  before  my  mother 
died" — her  voice  faltered  —  "she  used  to  tell  me 
something  the  holy  Jesus  said  to  his  disciples  —  '  Do 
ye  unto  others  as  ye  would  have  them  do  to  you.'  " 

I  took  her  hand  in  mine  and  pressed  it  to  my  lips. 
She  blushed  slightly,  and,  gently  withdrawing  it, 
walked  noiselessly  away. 


MYS1EKY  27 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MYSTERY. 

I  attempted  to  follow  her  with  my  eyes  as  she 
depaited,  but  before  I  could  turn  my  head  she  was 
out  of  sight,  and  I  had  not  done  wondering  by  what 
means  she  had  descended  from  the  roof,  since  from 
where  I  lay  there  was  no  staircase  visible,  when  I  heard 
a  footstep  behind  me,  and  an  old,  gray-bearded  man, 
venerable  and  benevolent  in  aspect,  and  habited  in  a 
long,  gray  cassock,  came  to  my  side  and  greeted  me 
with  a  kindly  smile. 

I  immediately  addressed  him  in  Spanish. 

"  Padre  Francisco,  is  it  not  —  to  whom  I  owe  so 
much  ?  " 

"Not  to  me,  young  man,"  he  answered,  gravely. 
«  Render  not  your  thanks  to  me,  nor  yet  to  her  whose 
gentle  and  unremitting  care  has  done  more  for  you 
than  all  my  feeble  skill;  give  your  praise  and  gratitude 
to  Him  without  whose  aid  all  our  efforts  had  been 
fruitless." 

"  I  do  thank  God,  father,  with  all  my  heart  ana 
soul ;  but  yourself  and  that  young  lady  have  been  his 
worthy  instruments,  and  as  such  you  must  accept  the 
assurance  of  my  gratitude/' 


28  ALMIRANTE 

"  That  is  well  said,  my  son,  and  now  let  us  not 
neglect  what  may  still  be  advisable  to  restore  you  more 
completely  to  health.  How  do  you  feel  now  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all  unwell,  but  very  weak." 

"  That  is  but  natural,  since  you  have  eaten  nothing 
for  days.  Have  you  an  appetite  now  ?  " 

"  I  am  as  hungry  as  a  wolf,"  I  answered,  smiling, 

He  smiled  also  and  rubbed  his  hands  in  satisfac 
tion. 

"  Ah,  that  is  well,  indeed.  You  must  have  some 
food  immediately.  Ina,  my  child,  will  you  attend  to 
this?" 

I  glanced  around  and  to  my  surprise  saw  that  the 
young  girl  was  but  a  few  feet  distant.  She  did  not 
look  at  me,  however,  but  answering  —  "  Yes,  father  " 
—  turned  to  leave  the  spot,  but  the  priest  detained  her 
a  moment,  saying : 

"On  second  thoughts,  daughter,  have  our  own 
simple  repast  brought  here  also.  It  is  near  the  hour 
and  our  guest  will  feel  more  at  home  if  we  share  his 
meal." 

I  looked  my  gratitude  fo{  the  suggestion  and 
Donna  Ina,  bowing  in  acquiescence,  disappeared. 
While  she  was  gone  the  priest  remained  silent,  regard 
ing  me  with  what  seemed  an  intense,  yet  puzzled 
scrutiny,  under  which,  with  the  nervousness  of  an  in- 


MYSTERY  *$. 

valid,  I  at  length  grew  uncomfortable   and   writhed 
uneasily.     He  noticed  it  and  said: 

"Pardon  me,  my  son,  but  it  is  wonderful  what  a 
change  the  recovery  of  your  reason  has  made  in  the 
expression  of  your  features.  I  see  in  them  now  some 
thing  I  never  saw  before  —  something  which  seems  to 
recall  a  dim  and  indistinct  memory  which  —  but  let  it 
pass.  Here  is  Ina." 

The  young  lady  was  accompanied  by  an  Indian 
girl,  bearing  a  tray,  upon  which  was  a  plentiful  supply 
of  simple  and  wholesome  food.  A  small  table  was 
placed  beside  my  couch,  and  upon  this  the  repast  was 
spread,  to  which,  after  Padre  Francisco  had  said  a 
short  grace,  I  at  least  did  ample  justice,  in  spite  of  the 
priest's  singular  words.  When  we  had  finished  he 
arose,  saying  : 

"My  daughter,  for  a  time  I  must  leave  you  to 
attend  to  the  wants  of  our  guest.  Entertain  him,  but 
do  not  let  him  talk  too  much.  Speak  yourself,  or 
better  still,  sing  to  him,  I  will  send  some  one  up  with 
your  instrument." 

"  Stay,  father,"  said  I.  "  Before  I  trespass  further 
on  your  hospitality  you  must  hear  me  state,  now  that 
I  am  able,  who  I  am  and  the  circumstances  which  led 
to  my  falling  into  your  kind  care." 

He  waved  his  hand  deprecatingly.  v 


30  ALMIRANTE 

"  My  son,  you  have  heard  me  say  that  you  must 
not  talk  at  present.  As  for  the  information  you  wish 
to  give  us  —  all  in  good  time.  We  have  none  of  the 
world's  idle  curiosity,  and  can  wait.  Farewell." 

With  a  slight  but  courteous  bow,  and  another 
strange,  intent  look  at  me,  he  left  us  and  descended 
the  stairway,  which  I  had  now  succeeded  in  discover 
ing,  the  mass  of  shrubbery  which  surrounded  the 
landing  having  heretofore  prevented  me.  A  moment 
afterwards  the  Indian  girl  who  had  brought  the  lunch 
re-appeared,  carrying  a  guitar.  Placing  it  in  Donna 
Ina's  hands  she  took  up  the  tray  and  once  more 
retired.  Her  young  mistress  remained  silent  for  some 
moments  after  her  departure,  idly  fingering  the  strings 
of  the  instrument,  and  I  at  length  broke  the  stillness 
myself. 

"  Pardon  me,  Senorita,"  I  said,  "but  may  I  beg 
you  to  depart  from  the  good  father's  directions  inso 
much  as  to  talk  to  me  rather  than  sing  ?  There  is  no 
music  I  should  like  better." 

She  flashed  a  sudden  look  upon  me,  and  I  feared 
for  a  moment  I  had  offended  her,  but  it  was  not  so, 
for  a  slight  smile  came  over  her  face,  and  casting  down 
Tier  eyes,  she  asked  : 

"  What  shall  I  speak  of,  Senor?  " 

"Anything  —  everything!  Tell  me  about  your 
self,  your  home  —  your  friends." 


MYSTERY  31 

"Ah,  what  is  there  to  tell?  I  am  Ina  Almirante. 
I  live  here  in  this  wilderness  with  Padre  Francisco 
and  my  father,  brother,  and — and  a  kinsman.  Other 
relatives  I  have  none.  Even  these  that  I  have  are 
at  present  absent,  though  soon  expected  to  return. 
My  brother  has  been  gone  three  years,  my  cousin  five 
months,  and  my  father  three  weeks.  They  will  all 
meet  and  return  together." 

"You  speak  of  a  kinsman,"  said  I  with — could  it 
be  possible  ? — something  very  like  a  feeling  of  jealousy 
stirring  within  me. 

"Yes,  my  father's  cousin.  He  has  always  made 
his  home  with  us,  for  his  own  rancho,  which  is  far 
ther  back  from  the  coast,  is  a  wild  and  savage  place, 
and  open  to  attack  from  the  Indians.  No  one  lives 
there  but  some  of  my  kinsman's  peons,  who  are,  I 
sometimes  think,  more  wild  than  the  savages." 

"You  say,  Sefiorita,  that  your  kinsman's  residence 
is  farther  in  the  interior.  Then  whose  is  that  large, 
white  building  I  see  far  away  toward  the  ocean  ?" 

She  started,  exclaiming : 

"Ah,  that  I  do  not  know!" 

"You  do  not  know,"  I  repeated  In  amazement. 

Donna  Ina  hesitated,  colored,  and  at  length  an 
swered,  confusedly : 

"  I — my  father — there  is  some  mystery  about  it." 


3«  ALMIRANTE 

"Then  do  not  let  me  pry  into  it,  Senorita.  Par 
don  me  for  mentioning  it." 

"But  now  that  I  have  excited  your  curiosity, 
Sefior,  you  shall  know  all  I  do.  That  is  only  this  : 
I  have  never  been  allowed  to  go  there,  nor  do  I  know 
to  whom  it  belongs.  My  father,  when  I  ask  him, 
only  replies  that  it  is  waiting  for  an  owner  who  will 
come  some  day.  Whom  he  means  I  cannot  tell. 
That  he  could  possess  it  himself  if  he  wished,  I  know; 
for  once  my  cousin — " 

She  suddenly  stopped. 

"  Your  cousin,  Senorita — " 

"Pardon  me,  Seftor,  but  this  I  cannot  tell." 

She  cast  down  her  eyes  and  said  no  more,  and 
there  was  a  moment  of  embarrassing  silence.  Then, 
turning  to  me  once  more,  she  said,  anxiously: 

"Senor,  you  are  flushed  and  nervous.  I  should 
not  have  talked  to  you  as  I  have.  I  have  tired  you  !" 

"  No  indeed.  How  should  it  tire  me  to  listen  to 
you  ?" 

"  Perhaps  not,  were  I  to  speak  in  your  own 
tongue,  but  to  endeavor  to  listen  to  one  speaking 
a  language  which,  however  well  you  many  understand 
it,  is  nevertheless  not  your  own,  must  necessarily  be 
trying  to  one  just  recovering  from  brain  fever.  Why 
did  I  never  learn  to  speak  English  ! ' 

"Thanks,   Senorita,"   I  answered,  smiling,   "but 


MYSTERY  33 

that  could  not  but  be  difficult,  I  imagine,  if  you  have 
always  lived  apart  from  English-speaking  people  and 
their  literature/' 

"Literature!  Indeed,  yes.  We  have  but  one 
English  book  in  the  house,  and  how  that  came  into 
our  possession  I  do  not  know." 

"An  English  book?  What  is  its  subject, 
Senorita  ?" 

"Ah,  that  I  do  not  know.  But  I  will  bring  it  to 
you  in  one  instant." 

"  No,  no;  do  not  trouble  yourself,  I  beg." 

But  she  was  already  gone,  and  while  I  was  yet 
regretting  the  interruption  she  returned,  carrying  in 
her  hand  a  well-worn,  leather-bound  book,  which, 
upon  opening,  I  ascertained  to  be  an  odd  volume  of 
Shakspere.  But  when  I  turned  to  the  fly-leaf  to  see 
if  there  was  an  inscription  of  any  kind,  the  book  fell 
from  my  hand,  and  I  fell  helplessly  back  upon  the 
couch,  in  my  weak  state  almost  fainting  with  surprise, 
for  upon  the  page  was  written,  in  a  bold,  old- 
fashioned  hand — 

Alfred  (Rivers, 

JJew  (Bedford, 

Massachusetts. 


34  ALM1RANTE 


CHAPTER  V. 

A    MEETING. 

Donna  Ina  hurried  to  my  side. 

"What  is  it,  Senor,  what  is  it?"  she  asked 
anxiously.  "  Let  me  call  Padre  Francisco." 

11  No,  no,  it  is  not  necessary/'  I  answered,  with 
what  calmness  I  could  muster.  "A  sudden  iamtness, 
that  is  all." 

What  induced  me  to  answer  thus  evasively,  and  to 
conceal  the  cause  of  my  agitation,  I  hardly  knew  • 
certainly  no  distrust  of  the  beautiful  girl  upon  whose 
truth  and  faith  I  felt  even  then  I  would  be  willing  to 
peril  my  life.  Nevertheless,  the  impulse  arose  and 
on  the  spur  of  the  moment  was  acted  upon.  My 
own  name,  and  the  name  of  the  place  where  I  was 
born  and  where  I  had  lived  almost  all  my  life ! 
What  could  it  mean  ?  A  score  of  strange  and  im 
probable  thoughts  and  fancies  stirred  in  my  mind  at 
the  same  instant.  The  blood  rushed  to  my  head, 
and  my  wound,  though  almost  healed,  throbbed  with 
pangs  of  burning  pain.  A  low  moan  escaped  me, 
and  I  lay  back  with  closed  eyes,  half  unconscious. 

"  Poor,  poor  boy  !" 

The  pitying  words,    uttered    in   the  soft  Spanish 


A  MEETING  35 

tongue,  and  with  a  world  of  tender  sympathy  in  their 
intonation,  fell  upon  my  senses  like  a  breath  of  heal 
ing.  It  was  evident  that  she  thought  me  unconscious, 
and  had  no  idea  of  my  overhearing  her,  but  could  she 
already  speak  of  me  in  a  tone  like  that  ?  The  pain 
seemed  to  leave  me,  or  I  no  longer  felt  it,  for  a  sense 
of  strange  and  sudden  delight  thrilled  through  my 
being,  and  for  one  moment  at  least  I  felt  lifted  above 
the  cares  and  the  ills  of  earth.  I  opened  my  eyes 
and  met  her  own,  bent  full  upon  me  and  dim  with 
tears.  A  deep  blush  for  a  moment  suffused  her  face 
for  she  saw  that  I  had  heard,  yet  she  did  not  turn 
away,  but,  strong  in  her  own  utter  innocence  and 
purity,  still  bent  her  eyes,  lit  with  gentle  sympathy, 
upon  me,  while  she  said  : 

"Pardon  me,  Senor,  but  I  pity  you  so  deeply! 
Are  you  in  much  pain  ?" 

I  forgot  how  utterly  a  stranger  I  was  to  her  ;  forgot 
that  our  acquaintance,  as  far  at  least  as  my  own 
recollection  extended,  was  but  of  hours ;  forgot  all 
but  the  spell  of  her  beauty  and  her  words  and  it  was 
with  throbbing  pulses  and  burning  eyes  that  I  said: 

"Ah,  Senorita,  who  could  think  of  pain  while  you 
look  on  him  like  that  ?" 

Again  a  crimson  shade  swept  over  her  face,  and 
she  lifted  her  hand  with  a  strange  motion  which 
seemed  almost  of  warning.  But  I  caught  it  in  mine 

3 


36  ALMIRANTE 

and,  carried  away  with  the  excitement  of  this  wild 
passion,  pressed  it  suddenly  and  almost  fiercely  to  my 
lips.  She  attempted  to  draw  it  away,  but  I  did  not 
release  it,  and  after  a  moment  she  suffered  it  to 
remain  passive  in  my  grasp.  But  she  trembled  visibly, 
and  when  I  looked  up,  her  face  was  white  and 
troubled,  while  her  eyes  had  in  them  an  expression 
of  intense  reproach.  Stung  with  shame  I  released  her 
hand,  and  murmured,  only  half  intelligibly  : 

"Forgive  me,  Senorita.  I  am  half  mad  I  think, 
and  scarcely  know  what  I  do.  Indeed,  I  would  not 
willingly  make  you  angry." 

"  I  am  not  angry,  Senor,"  she  answered;  "I  do 
not  forget  that  you  are  ill.  But  hereafter — "  She 
paused,  hesitated,  sighed  and  turned  away. 

What  might  have  next  been  said,  had  we  remained 
uninterrupted,  I  cannot  tell,  for  at  that  moment  our 
attention  was  suddenly  arrested  by  the  rapid  clatter  of 
hoofs  near  at  hand.  The  rider,  whoever  he  might  be, 
was  not  visible  from  where  we  were,  and  in  a  moment 
the  sounds  ceased,  the  horseman  having  evidently 
arrived  at  the  entrance  to  the  hacienda.  Shortly 
afterward  a  babel  of  confused  exclamations  burst  sud 
denly  forth,  and  even  while  Donna  Tna's  lips  seemed 
to  frame  a  question,  the  young  Indian  girl  came  sud 
denly  up  the  staircase  and  hurried  towards  us, 
exclaiming  in  strangely  accented  Spanibh : 


37 

"Donna  Ina!  Donna  Ina!  Can  you  think  who  has 
come  ?" 

"Not  my  father  and  brother?''  exclaimed  her  mis 
tress,  eagerly. 

The  girl  laughed. 

"No,  no,  Donna  Ina,"  she  answered;  "but  they 
are  coming  and  have  sent  a  messenger.  But  who  is 
that  messenger?  Who  should  it  be  but  one?" 

Ina  seemed  offended  at  her  servant's  freedom, 
for  the  eager  light  left  her  eyes,  and  drawing  herself 
up,  she  said,  coldly  : 

"Go  down,  Fancha,  and  say  I  am  coming." 

The  girl  obeyed,  still  laughing,  and  evidently  in 
no  wise  disconcerted  by  her  mistress's  manner. 

Donna  Ina  stood  still  for  a  moment,  apparently  in 
deep  thought ;  then,  with  a  glance'  at  me  and  a  slight 
bow,  began  to  move  slowly  toward  the  stairway. 
While  I  was  wondering  at  her  seeming  indifference  to 
the  message  which  the  late  arrival  was  said  to  bring 
from  the  father  and  brother  to  whom  I  felt  sure  she 
passionately  attached,  there  was  a  quick  step  upon 
the  stairs,  and  a  tall,  dark-visaged  man,  dressed  in 
dusty  and  travel-worn  garments,  sprong  upon  the 
roof,  and  without  noticing  me  hurried  to  Ina  and 
sank  upon  his  knees  before  her. 

11  Fairest  Ina,"  he  murmured,  clasping  her  hand 
and  lifting  his  dark  and  passionate  eyes  to  her  face, 


3*  ALM1RANTE 

"forgive  my  impatience,  but  I  could  not  wait  an 
instant.  It  is  five  months  since  I  have  seen  you,  five 
months— five  centuries  !" 

"You  are  welcome  home,  Ramon,"  said  Ina  in  a 
trembling  voice.  "  But  now  rise,  and  let  us  go  down 
where  you  may  rest  and  tell  me  of  Carlos  and  my 
father. 

"No,  rather  let  me  rest  here,"  he  answered,  his 
adoring  eyes  still  fixed  upon  her  face.  "  What  resting 
place  can  be  sweeter  to  the  weary  wanderer  than  at 
the  feet  of  her  he  loves  ?" 

But.  mad  with  jealousy  and  thirsting  for  ven 
geance,  I  had  already  dragged  myself  from  my  couch, 
and  staggered,  weak  and  dizzy,  to  the  unconscious 
man's  side ;  and  as  he  uttered  the  last  word  my  hand 
closed  on  his  throat. 

"  Treacherous  hound  !" 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  ghastly  face  and  a  cry 
that  was  almost  a  shriek  : 

"Diablo!  it  is  Rivers  I" 

In  rising  he  had  torn  himself  loose  from  my  feeble 
hold,  and  now  stood  opposite  me,  but  a  step  away, 
with  his  hand  upon  his  knife-hilt,  while  Ina,  mute 
uith  amazement  and  horror  leaned  against  the  para 
pet  but  a  few  yards  distant.  I  was  so  utterly  weak 
that  I  could  scarcely  stand,  and,  as  my  enemy  noticed 
this,  the  color  came  again  into  his  face,  and  a  gleam. 


A  MEETING  39 

of  murderous  hate  shone  in  his  eyes.  I  saw  his  fing 
ers  tighten  upon  the  hilt  of  his  weapon,  and,  helpless 
and  unarmed  as  I  was,  realized  how  completely  I  was 
in  his  power.  Frenzied  and  maddened,  I  gave  no 
heed,  but  sprang  forward  and  struck  him  on  the 
breast.  He  drew  back  with  a  muttered  curse,  and 
his  knife  flashed  from  the  sheath— but  at  the  same 
instant  a  lithe  figure  sprang  up  the  stairway,  and 
Carlos  Alrrurante,  dashing  between  us  without  notic 
ing  our  positions,  clasped  his  sister  in  his  arms. 

*'  Ina,  my  love,  my  darling  sister !     I  am  home  at 
lastl" 


40  ALMIRANTE 


CHAPTER  VI. 
THE   BANISHMENT. 

I  think  that,  horrified  as  she  must  have  been  the 
instant  before,  Ina  for  a  moment  forgot  the  very 
existence  of  Estrada  and  myself  in  the  joy  of  meeting 
her  brother.  She  clung  to  him,  passionately  returning 
his  embrace,  and  sobbing  for  joy,  while  my  own  mad 
passions  grew  hushed  and  aim  in  the  presence  of 
such  tenderness  and  devotion.  Even  Estrada, 
wretch  as  he  was,  must  have  felt  its  influence,  or  per 
haps  an  impulse  of  prudence  moved  him,  for  he 
returned  his  weapon  to  its  sheath,  and,  folding  his 
arms,  assumed  an  attitude  of  imperturbable  calmness. 

"O,  Carlos,  my  dear,  dear  brother !"  murmured 
Ina,  brokenly,  "  the  years  have  been  long  since  you 
left  us/' 

"And  they  have  to  me,"  he  answered,  pressing  his 
lips  to  her  forehead.  "Never  did  a  criminal  long  for 
the  end  of  his  imprisonment  with  more  earnestness 
than  did  I  for  the  time  when  I  should  be  free  to  re 
turn  to  the  sister  I  loved.  All  of  our  party  can  testify 
that  since  we  left  the  port  I  have  given  them  no  rest 
in  my  eagerness  to  reach  home.  Nor  did  my  father 
and  Ramon  seem  less  eager,  and  to-day  it  culminated 


THE  BANISHMENT  41 

in  a  race  between  us  three  to  see  which  should  arrive 
first.  My  saddle-girths  broke,  or  Ramon  should  not 
have  outstripped  me,  It  matters  not,  however,  for  I 
am  here  now,  as  our  father  will  soon  be,  nor  are  the 
rest  far  behind.  But  what  is  it,  sister?  Why  do 
you  turn  pale  and  tremble  ?" 

The  mention  of  her  kinsman's  name  had  evidently 
recalled  the  incidents  of  the  last  few  moments  to 
Donna  Ina's  mind,  for  her  face  had  indeed  lost  its 
color,  and  her  eyes  turned  to  where  we  yet  stood,  I 
leaning  against  a  trellis,  for  I  could  no  longer  stand 
unsupported,  and  Don  Ramon  opposite  me,  erect  and 
defiant.  Carlos,  receiving  no  reply  to  his  question, 
followed  his  sister's  gaze  with  his  own,  and  as  his  eyes 
fell  upon  my  face,  a  wild  cry  escaped  him  : 

" Mother  of  God!  Mother  of  God!  Can  it  be 
truly  the  same? — or  is  it  but  his  ghost ?" 

I  could  not  answer,  but  Ina  said,  wonderingly : 

"  Do  you  then  know  him,  brother?" 

"  Do  I  know  him  !"  echoed  Carlos,  springing  to 
me  and  seizing  both  my  hands  in  his;  "do  I  know 
him  to  whom  I  owe  my  life? — who  saved  it  at  the 
risk  of  his  own  ?  But  O,  my  friend  !  my  saviour  !  that 
I  should  find  you  here — here  at  my  own  home! — alive 
and  safe,  when  I  have  mourned  you  as  lying  dead 
beneath  the  treacherous  sea  that  would  have  been  my 
own  grave  but  for  you  !  Great  God,  I  thank  thee !" 


42  ALMIRANTE 

"I,  too,  am  grateful,"  spoke  Don  Ramon,  in 
slow,  measured  tones,  "  that  Providence  has  saved 
the  life  of  one  who  rendered  us  such  good  service, 
and  whose  supposed  loss,  I  as  well  as  his  late  ship 
mates  mourned  most  deeply.  But  I  am  grieved  to 
think  that  I  have  still  to  regret  the  loss  of  his  reason  ?" 

"  His  reason !  What  do  you  mean  ?"  exclaimed 
Carlos. 

"  Your  sister,  if  she  will,  can  explain  my  mean 
ing,"  answered  Estrada,  coldly.  "  Let  her  tell  what 
happened  a  few  moments  since." 

"Let  me  tell  it !"  I  exclaimed,  starting  up  erect, 
my  indignation  lending  me  a  fictitious  strength. 
"  Let  me  show  you  what  manner  of  man  he  is  who 
calls  himself  your  kinsman  !"  and  in  tremulous  tones 
and  with  passionate  gestures,  vainly  attempting  to 
restrain  the  indignation  which  possessed  me,  I  poured 
forth  the  story  of  Estrada's  treachery  and  attempted 
murder.  Donna  Ina  and  her  brother  listened  with 
horrified  countenances,  but  Don  Ramon's  bore  an 
expression  of  cynical  contempt,  inexpressibly  galling. 
When  I  had  finished  he  opened  his  lips  to  speak,  but 
a  deep,  stern  voice  interrupted  him  : 

"  Ramon  Estrada,  is  this  true  ?" 

We  turned  to  the  head  of  the  staircase,  from 
whence  the  voice  had  proceeded.  A  man  stood 
there,  erect  and  vigorous,  with  eyes  of  intense  and 


THE  BANISHMENT  43 

fiery  blackness,  but  whose  flowing  hair  and  beard 
were  as  white  as  snow.  His  was  a  face  both  haughty 
and  handsome,  and  it  needed  not  the  word  "  Father  !" 
uttered  by  Ina,  to  convince  me  of  his  identity.  His 
daughter  would  have  hastened  to  his  side,  but  he  waved 
her  back,  almost  sternly,  while  he  repeated  his  ques 
tion: 

"Ramon  Estrada,  is  this  true?" 

The  accused  did  not  answer  immediately^  and  the 
old  man  continued: 

"  I  came  but  a  moment  since,  though  you  did  not 
notice  me ;  came  to  hear  that  man,  Alfred  Rivers, 
who  speaks  to  me  as  would  a  voice  from  the  grave, 
declare  that  you,  my  kinsman,  repaid  his  faithful  ser 
vice  to  my  son  with  treachery  and  attempted  assassi 
nation.  Ramon  Estrada,  is  this  true?" 

"  Don  Hernando,"  answered  Estrada,  with  well 
feigned  indignation,  "if  any  man  to  whom  I  owe  less 
reverence  had  asked  that  question,  his  heart's  blood 
should  atone  for  the  insult.  But  to  you  all  things 
must  be  allowed.  Know,  then,  that  this  poor  mani 
ac's  tale  is  the  absurdest  of  untruths.  His  own 
ship-mates  will  testify  that  when  he  fell  overboard  it 
was  I  who  first  gave  the  alarm,  and,  furthermore,  that 
no  one  was  more  active  in  attempting  to  rescue  him 
than  myself.  I  appeal  to  Carlos  to  substantiate  or 
disprove  this  assertion." 


44  ALM1RANTE 

Almirante  turned  inquiringly  toward  his  son,  who, 
with  eyes  averted  from  mine,  answered  in  a  low  tone : 

"It  is  true.  No  one  suspected  that  there  had 
been  treachery  against  our  poor  friend." 

"  Now,  Don  Hernando,"  pursued  Estrada,  in  a 
firmer  and  more  confident  tone,  "can  you  not  see  that 
what  you  have  listened  to  is  but  the  delusion  of  a 
mind  deranged  from  hardship  and  suffering?  I  con 
fess  that  I  myself  did  not  at  first  think  of  this,  and  in 
my  anger  at  his  sudden  and  unprovoked  assault  upon 
me  a  few  moments  since  I  could  have  taken  his  life. 
But  all  that  is  passed  now,  and  the  only  feeling  I  have 
for  him  is  pity." 

Pity  !  Great  God !  could  I  bear  this  ?  The  liar 
actually  looked  at  me  as  he  ceased  speaking  with  an 
expression  of  deep  compassion  ;  worse  than  that,  I 
saw  Ina  and  her  brother  exchange  glances  of  the  same 
import,  though  Don  Hernando's  eyes  were  fixedly 
bent  npon  his  kinsman's  face,  and  his  own  counte 
nance  bore  only  an  expression  of  intense  thought. 
Suddenly  the  sound  of  a  bugle  was  heard  in  the  dis 
tance,  evidently  heralding  the  approach  of  the  remain 
der  of  the  travelers,  and  at  the  same  instant  Almi- 
rante's  brow  cleared,  and  he  said : 

*'  Come  with  me,  all  of  you,  to  the  court  You, 
Carlos,  support  your  friend.  He  saved  your  life,  and 


THE  BANISHMENT  45 

you   owe  him  service,   and  the  greater  his  affliction 
now,  the  greater  is  his  claim  upon  yon.     Come/' 

We  all  followed  him  to  the  staircase  and  de 
scended,  Carlos  guiding  and  aiding  my  steps  with 
brotherly  solicitude.  But  I  scarcely  needed  his  sup 
port,  for  a  conviction  of  Don  Hernando's  purpose 
had  suddenly  entered  my  mind  and  brought  with  it  a 
feeling  of  confidence  which  for  the  time  seemed  to 
supply  the  place  of  physical  strength.  I  fancied,  too, 
that  Don  Ramon  had  some  conception  of  his  kins 
man's  idea,  for  an  uneasy  look  was  visible  for  a  mo 
ment  in  his  dark  eyes,  giving  place,  however,  to  an 
expression  of  sullen  scorn. 

When  we  had  descended  the  stairway  I  was  led 
into  a  large  square  courtyard,  around  which  the  house 
was  built  in  the  form  of  a  quadrangle.  Opposite  us- 
was  a  gloomy  looking,  arched  passageway,  and  along 
this  my  companions  conducted  me  until  we  emerged 
through  a  heavily  barred  door  into  the  open  air.  A 
broad  and  gentle  slope  lay  before  us,  and  up  this  a 
number  of  picturesquely  costumed  horsemen  were 
riding,  urging  before  them  a  line  of  heavily  laden 
mules.  They  were  soon  near  at  hand,  whereupon  a 
number  of  the  household  servants  hurried  out  to  meet 
them,  and  after  greeting  their  returning  friends,  took 
charge  of  the  pack  animals,  driving  them  around  an 
angle  of  the  hacienda  and  out  of  our  sight,  while  their 


46  ALMIRANTE 

late  herders  galloped  up  to  us  and  sprang  from  their 
wearied  horses  with  a  chorus  of  *'  Vivas." 

Ever  since  we  had  taken  up  our  position  in  the 
•doorway,  Don  Hernando  had  been  standing  directly 
before  me,  with  his  stern  eyes  fixed  upon  Estrada's 
face.  Now,  however,  he  turned  away  and  at  the  same 
instant  drew  me  forward  into  the  full  view  of  the  ar 
rivals.  There  was  a  moment  of  dead  silence,  and 
then  exclamations  of  astonishment  and  even  horror 
burst  from  the  lips  of  nearly  all,  since  there  were  few 
among  them  who  had  not  been  of  the  crew  we  had 
rescued  at  sea.  But  upon  one,  a  low-browed  and 
stalwart-framed  individual  of  middle  age,  who  stood 
in  the  front  of  the  group,  the  effect  of  my  sudden 
apparition  was  tremendous.  A  ghastly  pallor  spread 
over  his  visage,  and  wildly  flinging  up  his  arms  he  sank 
upon  his  knees  with  a  cry — 

"  Mercy  !    mercy,  Jesu  !" 

A  mad  light  flamed  in  Djn  Ramon's  eyes,  and  he 
cried  sivagely: 

"  What  ails  you,  fool  ?" 

"There,  there!"  shrieked  the  wretch,  glaring  at 
me  with  a  gnze  of  utter  horror.  "  Do  you  not  see 
him?  So  pale  and  ghastly!  Oh,  keep  him  away! 
keep  him  away  !"  Fur  here  in  the  excitement  of  the 
moment  I  moved  a  step  toward  him.  "For  God's 
sake,  do  not  let  him  touch  me !  Don  Ramon,  save 


THE  BANISHMENT  47 

me !    It   was  you  who  made  me  do  it  !    Save  me ! 
save  me  !" 

I  heard  a  horrible  oath,  and  saw  some  one  rush 
savagely  forward.  A  knife  for  an  instant  flashed  in 
the  sunlight — then  there  was  an  awful  cry.  For  an 
instant  the  air  seemed  full  of  blood,  I  grew  sick  at 
the  sight,  and  staggering  blindly  backward  sank  upon- 
a  rude  stone  seat  against  the  wall.  Ina  appeared  to 
be  fainting,  and  Carlos  sprang  to  her  side,  and,  passing 
his  arm  around  her,  half  led,  half  carried  her  to  a 
seat  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the  gateway,  correspond 
ing  to  that  upon  which  I  sat.  She  sank  upon  it,  pale 
and  motionless,  while  Carlos  knelt  before  her,  chafing 
her  hands  and  endeavoring  to  shut  out  the  sight  of 
the  dead  man  who  lay  so  near,  bloody  and  horrible* 
The  crowd  of  menials  had  shrunk  back,  aghast  and 
trembling,  forgetting  their  consternation  at  the  unex 
pected  sight  of  myself  in  the  shock  of  this  sudden 
crime.  The  murderer,  every  devilish  though  long 
restrained  passion  of  his  nature  now  for  once  thor 
oughly  released,  stood  over  his  victim,  his  bloody 
weapon  still  in  his  hand,  and  with  a  face  of  demoni 
acal  fury.  Don  Hernando  stood  near  him,  giving  no 
heed  to  the  dead  man,  but  gazing  steadfastly  upon 
the  murderer.  Not  till  the  confusion  had  entirely 
ceased  and  given  place  to  a  kind  of  dead  calm,  did 


48  ALMIKANTE 

he  speak  ;  then,  in  cold,  stern  tones,  he  addressed  his 
kinsman  : 

"  Ramon  Estrada,  you  are  a  liar  and  a  murderer. 
The  wretch  you  have  slain  had  forfeited  his  life,  and  it 
is  not  worth  avenging.  But  he  has  proved  your 
greater  guilt.  You  sought  the  life — and  I  well  know 
why — of  him,  whom  you,  my  son's  kinsman,  should 
have  died  to  save.  Again — I  believe  now  that  when 
Carlos  was  left  to  perish  upon  the  sinking  vessel,  it  was 
with  your  knowledge,  and  not  by  accident.  You  would 
have  murdered  him,  and  I  can  guess  your  reason.  And 
'o  think  that  I  had  urged  my  innocent  child  to  give  her 
land  to  such  a  monster !  Leave  my  sight  and  pres 
ence  forever!  Upon  the  peril  of  your  life  never  again 
set  your  foot  upon  the  land  which  I  call  mine.  Gu!  and 
thank  the  Fates  that  the  blood  of  rny  own  race  flows 
in  your  veins,  else  you  should  never  leave  this  spot 
alive.  Go  !  and  may  God  curse  you  !" 

Don  Ramon  had  listened  to  Almirante's  words 
without  offering  to  interrupt  him,  but  when  they  were 
ended  he  smiled  scornfully,  and  answered,  in  a  low, 
fierce  tone  : 

"  And  are  you  the  man  who  should  speak  to  me 
thus  ?  Are  you  the  one  to  denounce  a  murderer  ? 
Perhaps  if  Alfred  Rivers  knew — " 

Don  Hernando's  face  grew  a  shade  paler,  and  he 
hoarsely  interrupted: 


THE  BANISHMENT  49 

"  Wretch,  do  not  tempt  me  too  far.  Our  common 
blood  may  yet  fail  to  protect  you." 

Estrada  sheathed  his  bloody  knife  and  turned 
away,  saying  : 

"  Let  it  pass  now,  then.  But  trust  to  me  for  the 
truth  being  known  some  day." 

"  But  from  my  lips  only  shall  it  be  known,"  was 
the  low,  stern  answer. 

Without  further  answer,  save  by  a  sneering  smile, 
Estrada  walked  slowly  away  and  disappeared  around 
a  corner  of  the  building.  A  moment  later  we 
saw  him,  mounted  upon  a  strong-limbed  and  coal- 
black  mustang,  dashing  recklessly  down  the  slope  as 
if  returning  toward  the  coast.  Reaching  the  foot  of 
the  hill,  however,  he  turned  abruptly  inland  and  was 
soon  lost  to  view  behind  the  first  of  a  low  range  of 
hills.  Then  Don  Hernando  broke  the  silence,  ad 
dressing  his  servants : 

"  Take  away  the  body  of  that  wretch  and  prepare 
it  for  burial.  I  will  send  Padre  Francisco  to  you. 
Come,  my  children,  let  us  go  within." 

As  he  uttered  the  word  "  children,"  his  eves  dwelt 
upon  me  with  an  expression  of  the  utmost  kindness, 
which  seemed  to  indicate  that  I  was  included  in  the 
meaning  of  the  term.  However,  he  said  nothing 
further,  but  giving  his  arm  to  Ina  and  motioning 
Carlos  to  lend  me  his  suppoit,  silently  led  the  way 


50  ALM1RAN  IE 

back  through  the  passage  until  we  stood  once  more 
within  the  courtyard.  Then  as  1  paused  by  his  side 
and  noted  his  kindly  look  once  more  dwelling  on  my 
face,  a  sudden  impulse  moved  me  to  extend  my  hand 
toward  him.  To  my  surprise  he  hesitated  to  take 
it,  turning  lividly  pale,  and  after  a  pause  gently 
grasped  me  by  the  wrist  and  placed  my  hand  in  that 
of  his  son. 

"  Give  Carlos  your  hand,"  he  said,  sighing.  "  Be 
you  to  him  as  he  to  you,  a  friend,  a  brother  in  affec 
tion,  if  you  will.  But  for  myself — pity  and  pardoa 
me.  Alfred,  for  I  cannot  suffer  you  to  take  my  hand."- 

xie  waved  us  on  toward  a  curtained  douiwiiy,  and 
turned  sadly  away. 


A  SAD  REVELATION 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A    SAD    REVELATION. 

Two  weeks  had  elapsed  after  the  occurrences  nar 
rated  in  the  last  chapter  before  I  felt  myself  to  be 
fully  recovered  from  my  illness.  During  all  this 
time  nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness  of  Don  Her- 
nando  and  his  household.  One  would  have  sup 
posed  me  to  be  a  beloved  member  of  their  own  family. 
Almirante  himself  seemed  to  regard  me  almost  in  the 
same  light  as  he  did  Carlos.  Yet  he  offered  me  no 
explanation  of  the  many  singular  circumstances  con 
cerning  which  I  would  fain  have  been  enlightened, 
and  delicacy  forbade  my  seeking  information  from  the 
other  members  of  his  household,  since  he,  its  head, 
did  not  see  fit  to  give  it. 

The  period  of  my  convalescence  was  certainly 
pleasant.  Everything  was  done  which  could  tend  to 
interest  or  divert  me.  Having  lived  the  greater  part 
of  my  life  in  a.  New  England  seaport  town,  I  knew  lit 
tle  of  horsemanship,  but  as  soon  as  I  became  suffi 
ciently  strong  my  host  and  his  son  placed  me  under  a 
course  of  instruction  in  this  exercise,  to  the  daily  trials 
of  which  I  soon  looked  forward  with  the  keenest  zest. 
Nor  was  this  in  any  way  singular,  since  Carlos  and 


52  ALMIRANTE 

his  sister  were  the  almost  invariable  companions  of 
my  rides,  which  increased  in  length  daily.  Ina  was  a 
splendid  horsewoman,  having  spent  a  great  part  of  her 
life  in  the  saddle,  while  Carlos,  mounted,  seemed 
almost  a  centaur. 

As  time  went  on  Don  Hernnndo's  kindness  seemed 
to  increase,  if  that  were  possible.  My  ship  had  sailed 
from  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  but  he  sent  messages 
regarding  my  safety  to  all  the  points  within  a  distance 
of  several  hundred  miles  up  and  down  the  coast 
where  there  was  the  least  likelihood  of  her  touching. 
In  the  meantime  he  forbade  me,  kindly  but  per 
emptorily,  to  make  any  reference  to  my  future  move 
ments,  observing  that  there  was  something  I  was  yet 
to  learn,  and  which  would  in  due  time  be  told  me. 
He  placed  no  restrictions  upon  my  intercourse  with 
his  dau-ghter,  but  at  times  I  observed  him  regarding 
us  with  a  sad  and  anxious  look.  So  the  days  went 
by. 

At  length  when  several  weeks  had  elapsed  since 
the  return  of  his  party  from  the  port,  Don  Hernando 
one  morning  invited  me  to  ride  out  with  him  alone. 
1  accepted  with  alacrity,  feeling  assured  that  some 
thing  of  moment  was  in  prospect.  I  did  not  know 
how  momentous  it  was  to  prove. 

When  we  had  descended  from  the  eminence  upon 
which  the  hacienda  was  located,  my  interest  was  fur- 


A  SAD    REVELATION  53 

ther  excited  by  Don  Hernando  choosing  a  path  I  had 
never  before  traversed,  but  which  I  felt  assured  led  to 
the  mansion  concerning  which  Donna  Ina  had  once 
made  some  slight  mention  in  a  manner  which  had  at 
the  time  greatly  excited  my  curiosity.  However,  as 
my  conductor  seemed  to  be  in  a  musing  mood,  I  for 
bore  to  question  him,  and  we  rode  on  in  silence  side 
by  side.  At  last,  after  having  ridden  a  distance  of 
some  three  miles,  my  companion  drew  rein  before  a 
small  mound  of  loose  stones  heaped  together  some 
thing  in  the  shape  of  a  pyramid. 

Motioning  me  to  occupy  a  particular  position, 
Don  Hernando  directed  my  attention  first  toward  the 
north,  and  then  southward,  and  I  saw  the  heap  by 
which  we  stood  was  one  of  a  long  and  perfectly 
straight  line  of  similar  mounds  of  which  I  could  not 
see  the  end. 

11  The  boundary  between  my  land  and  this,"  said 
Almirante. 

Again  we  rode  forward,  my  guide  directing  our 
course  toward  a  high  hill,  the  slope  of  which,  however, 
was,  on  our  side  at  least,  comparatively  gentle. 
Reaching  the  base,  Don  Hernando  never  paused,  but 
rode  on  and  upward,  straight  toward  the  summit. 
Our  horses  were  full  of  fire,  and  impatient  of  re 
straint,,  and  in  a  very  short  space  of  time  we  reached 
the  highest  peak.  There  Don  Hernando  drew  rein, 


54  ALMIRANTE 

and  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  directed  my  attention  to 
what  lay  around  about  us. 

To  the  west  and  south  was  the  mighty  expanse  of 
the  Pacific,  its  changeless  monotony  unbroken  by  a 
single  sail.  Turning  from  its  troubled  surface,  my 
eyes  swept  over  a  vast  area  of  hill  and  dale  ;  of  wide 
savannas  and  flower  decked  plains,  extending  to  the 
east  and  north  till  further  vision  was  cut  off  by  a  range 
of  mountains.  In  some  places  the  surface  of  the 
ground  was  hidden  by  a  heavy  growth  of  timber, 
while  in  others  it  was  bare  except  for  a  verdant 
carpeting  of  the  most  luxuriant  vegetation,  anid 
which  antelope,  elk  and  deer  could  be  discerned 
feeding  in  countless  numbers.  At  a  distance  of  per 
haps  two  miles  to  the  southward  was  the  building  I 
have  already  referred  to,  and  which  I  now  perceived 
to  be  of  much  larger  dimensions  than  I  had  pre 
viously  supposed.  It  seemed  to  me  also  that  there 
were  quite  a  number  of  people  moving  about  it. 

Don  Hernando  addressed  me. 

"  Look,"  he  said,  "  far  to  the  north.  The  moun 
tains  that  you  see  form  the  northern  boundary  of  this 
domain.  On  the  west  and  south  it  does  not  end  but 
with  the  ocean.  To  the  east  lies  my  own  land,  di 
vided  from  this  by  the  line  of  boundary  stones  I 
showed  you,  which  extends  southward  till  it  strikes  the 
sea.  There  are  ten  square  leagues  in  this  domain. 


A  SAD   REVELATION  55 

Look  upon  it  now  and  say  if  it  be  not  a  goodly  heri 
tage  ?" 

"  It  is,  Don  Hernando,  or  the  sun  never  shone  on 
one." 

"  The  house  you  see  to  the  southward  is,  of  course, 
a  part  of  it.  There  are  numerous  peons  dwelling 
upon  the  estate,  whose  services  are  needed  for  the 
care  of  the  herds  which  belong  to  it.  Nor  is  money 
wanting,  though*  in  this  wilderness  there  is  little  need 
for  it.  All  this  awaits  the  heir,  and,  Alfred  Rivers, 
you  and  you  only  are  that  heir." 

"  I,  Don  Hernando  ?     I  !     What  can  you  mean  ?" 

"I  mean  that  it  is  all  yours,"  he  answered  quietly. 

"  Mine  ?     By  what  right  can  I  claim  it  ?" 

"  The  best.  You  are  the  nearest,  and  so  far  as  I 
know  the  only,  blood  relation  of  its  former  owner." 

"  Don  Hernando,  you  are  under  a  strange  delu 
sion.  None  of  my  race  were  ever  on  this  coast  be 
fore." 

"None  of  his  race  !  Ah,  heaven,  hear  the  boy!" 
he  muttered  sadly. 

After  a  pause,  during  which  I  remained  silent,  a 
multitude  of  tumultuous  thoughts  whirling  through 
my  mind,  he  continued  : 

"  Have  you  never  wondered  at  the  strange  knowl 
edge  of  yourself  which  I  and  others  seemed  to  possess. 
Were  you  not  amazed  by  the  fact  that  your  name  was 


56  ALMIRANTE 

not  unknown  among  us?  Could  you  not  see  that 
there  was  something  concerning  yourself  which  you 
did  not  know  ?" 

"  It  seems  so/'  I  answered,  "  and  yet  I  could  not 
imagine  it  possible." 

"  Well,  then,  know  now  from  me  that  you  are  not 
the  first  of  your  race  that  has  visited  these  shores. 
You  are  but  the  successor  and  heir  of  another  of  your 
name  and  blood  who,  years  ago,  founded  here  a  home 
he  did  not  live  to  enjoy.  For  many  long  years  it  has 
been  under  my  stewardship,  and  I  trust  my  duty  has 
been  faithfully  performed.  But  you  have  come, 
though  unconscious  of  the  heritage  awaiting  you,  and 
I  yield  it  up  to  you." 

"  Can  this  indeed  be  possible?" 

"It  is  true." 

"But,  Don  Hernando,  this  cannot  be  all  you 
have  to  tell  me.  I  am  still  utterly  bewildered,  and 
there  must  be  more  for  me  to  learn." 

"  Yes,  you  are  right,  there  is  more — more  which  I 
would  fain  be  spared  the  telling.  Why  should  I  tell 
it  ?  Yonder,  Alfred  Rivers,  is  your  home.  G  j  there 
and  seek  within  its  walls  the  key  to  the  mystery  of 
your  life." 

"  Come  then,"  said  I,  "  let  us  go  together." 

He  shook  his  head  sadly,  answering: 

"  No,  that  cannot  be.     In  all  the  long  years  of  mv 


A  SAD   REVELATION  57 

stewardship  of  this  domain,  I  have  never  been  within 
the  walls  of  yonder  building.  And  when  you  have 
once  entered  and  received  the  knowledge  which  awaits 
you  there,  you  will  never  again  offer  me  the  invitation 
you  have  but  now  given." 

*c  What  !"  I  exclaimed,  almost  angrily,  "and  can 
I  not  enter  into  possession  of  what  you  say  is  my 
property  without  forfeiting  what  I  value  far  more — 
the  friendship  of  the  man  I  revere  next  to  my 
father?" 

A  sudden  spasm  as  of  pain  crossed  his  face. 

"  Next  to  your  father,"  he  repeated  in  a  low  tone. 
"Ah,  holy  Jesu  !  his  father!"  Then  lifting  his  bent 
brows,  he  went  on  : . 

"Alfred,  it  is  as  I  have  said.  There  is  your  home, 
and  you  have  only  to  enter  to  possess  it.  But  when 
you  have  done  so  you  will  no  longer  call  me  friend, 
and  I  and  mine  will  be  as  widely  separated  from  you 
as  though  yonder  ocean  rolled  between  us." 

I  and  mine!  The  words  sank  into  my  heart  like 
lead,  and  I  answered  with  a  sort  of  sullen  despair  : 

"  Then  hear  me.  If  this  horrible  thing  can  possi 
bly  be  true,  I  will  not  enter  the  home  which  you  call 
mine.  My  parents  are  dead,  and  from  the  treatment 
I  have  received  at  your  hand5,  my  first  duty  is  to  you; 
and  if  I  cannot — " 

"  You  mistake,  Alfred,"  said  he,  interrupting  me. 


58  ALMIRANTE 

"There  is  one  other  who  has  a  stronger  claim  upon 
you  than  I  have." 

The  conscious  blood  rose  in  my  face,  and  for  a 
moment  I  hung  my  head.  But  soon,  lifting  my  eyes 
and  firmly  meeting  his  own,  I  said  in  a  low  tone  ; 

"And  if  I  do  love  her,  could  I  or  could  any  one 
in  my  circumstances  have  done  otherwise  ?'' 

The  sad  look  deepened  upon  his  face. 

"You  have  utterly  mistaken  me,"  he  said;  "I 
had  no  reference  to  Im.  But  is  it  then  as  I  have 
feared?  Alas  1  I  should  hav^  been  harsher  for  your 
own  good.  I  dreaded  the  possibility  of  this,  but  I 
could  not  bear  to  seem  unkind  to  one  who  deserved 
so  much  at  my  hands.  But  now  there  is  only  one 
thing  for  me  to  say.  Boy,  you  must  crush  such 
thoughts  out  of  your  mind,  for  what  you  dream  of  is 
utterly  impossible," 

A  blank  feeling  of  hopelessness  took  possession  of 
me,  and  I  exclaimed,  despairingly : 

"  But  why — why  ?  Don  Hernando,  is  this  jus 
tice  ?  You  profess  the  deepest  friendship  for  me,  and 
you  have  proved  it  to  be  no  pretense.  Yet  you  for 
bid  me  to  even  hope  for  that  beside  which  every  other 
interest  pales  into  insignificance,  and  you  give  no  rea 
son.  Is  this  just?" 

"  Then  hear  my  reason, "he  said,  throwing  out  his 
hands  with  a  sudden  passionate  gesture,  and  speaking 


A  SAD    REVELATION  59 

in  a  manner  which  would  have  seemed  melodramatic 
but  for  the  evident  earnestness  of  his  words  ;  "  hear 
my  reason  !  The  blood  of  the  race  of  Rivers  is  upon 
my  hands,  and  while  that  stain  remains  we  can  never 
be  allied  I" 


60  ALMIKAME 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
THE    GRAVE    ON    THE    CLIFF 

I  started,  aghast. 

"  You  mean—" 

"  I  mean  that  Alfred  Rivers,  the  first  of  that  name 
who  visited  these  shores,  died  by  my  hands." 

"  But  surely  by  accident ;  through  no  malice  of — " 

"  Through  the  deadliest  malice  that  ever  man  felt 
for  man,"  was  the  stern  interruption.  "  I  can  guess 
what  questions  are  upon  your  tongue,  but  before  you 
ask  them  come  with  me." 

He  put  spurs  to  his  horse.  My  own  sprang  for 
ward  to  keep  pace  with  it,  and  side  by  side  we  dashed 
away  toward  the  ocean.  The  ground  descended  but 
slightly,  and  our  pace  was  terrific,  for  Don  Hernando, 
sitting  erect  and  firm  in  his  saddle,  with  colorless 
face  and  sternly  fixed  eyes,  seemed  to  think  only  of 
haste.  He  urged  his  horse  to  the  utmost,  while  I  felt 
it  was  useless  to  attempt  restraining  my  own.  The 
ridge  along  which  we  were  dashing  so  recklessly  ran  out 
a  long  distance  into  the  ocean,  in  the  form  of  a  lofty 
promontory,  ending  at  last  in  a  tremendous  cliff.  Not 
until  we  were  upon  the  very  brink  of  this  did  my 
companion  draw  rein.  Then,  suddenly  flinging  his 


THE  GRAVE  ON  THE  CLIFF  6l 

horse  almost  upon  its  haunches,  he  sprang  to  the 
ground. 

"  Dismount,"  he  said. 

I  needed  no  second  suggestion,  for  as  my  horse 
curveted  and  plunged  but  a  few  feet  from  the  verge 
of  the  cliff  my  brain  grew  sick  and  dizzy,  and  I  felt 
as  if  I  must  soon  fall  from  the  saddle.  However,  my 
feet  had  hardly  touched  the  earth  when  my  attention 
was  riveted  upon  an  object,  a  closer  inspection  of 
which  caused  me  to  forget  my  illness.  Don  Her- 
nando,  with  his  uncovered  head  bent  forward  upon 
his  breast  and  his  long  snowy  hair  floating  in  the 
breeze  from  the  sea,  stood  motionkss  beside  a  roughly 
hewn  slab  of  gray  stone,  upon  the  surface  of  which  an 
irregularly  chiseled  inscription  could  be  discerned.  I 
drew  nearer,  and  bending  over  it  read  aloud  : 

Beneath  this  stone  lies  the  body  of 
ALFRED  RIVERS, 

who  fell  by  the  hand  of  violence  upon  this  very  spot  on 
the  ist  day  oj  May,  18 — .  He  was  foully  slain,  since 
he  was  guiltless  of  all  crime,  God  and  Holy  Mary 
receive  him  into  Paradise  and  pity  and  forgive  his 
murderer. 

\  looked  up,  and  Don  Hernando's  eves  met  mine. 
"And  you  are  that  murderer  !"  I  said. 
He  bowed  his  head. 


62  ALMIRANTE 

"  One  more  question.  What  was  this  Alfred 
Rivers  to  myself?" 

"Your  own  father  1" 

I  sprang  up,  aghast,  and  involuntarily  recoiled 
from  him.  But  this  was  too  horrible  and  too  wildly 
improbable  for  belief. 

"You  are  mad!"  I  cried.  "  Robert  Rivers  was 
my  father.  He  was  born  in  New  England.  He  died 
and  was  buried  there.  He  never  to  my  knowledge 
visited  this  coast." 

"Robert  Rivers  never  did,"  he  replied  in  a  hollow 
tone.  "  But  he  had  no  children  that  I  ever  heard  of, 
for  you  are  really  his  nephew  and  his  son  only  by 
adoption.  You  were  born  within  the  walls  of  yonder 
mansion,  and  your  father  lies  beneath  this  stone." 

"This  cannot  be." 

"  It  is.  Have  you  no  remembrance  of  a  foreign 
nurse  who  attended  on  you  through  some  part  at  least 
of  your  childhood?" 

"Juanita!  Juanita !  She  died  when  I  was  twelve 
years  old." 

"  In  her  charge  you,  when  almost  an  infant,  made 
the  perilous  voyage  from  these  wilds  to  the  home  of 
your  father's  kindred.  Do  you  believe  me  now,  or 
shall  I  explain  more?" 

"  No,"  I  hoarsely  answered,  a  strange  feeling  of 
distrust  and  enmity  rising  within  me  against  this  man 


THE    GRAVE  ON  THE  CLIFF  6$ 

whom  I  but  now  had  regarded  with  so  much  reverence 
and  affection.  "  There  is  more,  much  more  to  be  ex 
plained,  but  at  your  hands  I  ask  nothing  further. 
Were  it  other  than  yourself,  the  father  of  Ina  Almi- 
rante,  who  thus  boldly  proclaims  himself  my  father's 
murderer,  explanation  is  not  what  I  should  ask  of  you. 
But  if  this  be  true,  then  with  you  I  am  done  now  and 
I  hope  forever.  I  will  go  my  own  way  and  seek  for 
myself  some  solution  of  this  web  of  sin  and  treachery 
and  crime." 

"  Alfred  Rivers  seek  that  solution  as  I  have 
already  told  you,  within  the  walls  of  your  own  home. 
It  awaits  you  there.  You  have  acted  as  I  knew  you 
would,  and  I  cannot  blame  you.  Hereafter,  unless 
you  yourself  render  it  necessary,  neither  I  nor  mine 
shall  ever  willingly  cross  your  path.  Now,  farewell. 
The  horse  I  leave  with  you  is  your  property,  bor 
rowed  purposely  from  your  own  herds  that  you  might 
owe  me  nothing." 

He  mounted,  and  putting  spurs  to  his  horse,  rode 
rapidly  up  the  slope. 

My  own  steed  would  have  dashed  away  in  pursuit, 
but  I  kept  a  firm  hand  upon  the  reins,  while  I  gazed 
fixedly  after  the  singular  man  who  was  leaving  me. 
Soon  he  passed  over  the  summit  and  out  of  sight,  and 
I  turned  once  more  to  the  stone  at  my  feet.  I  again 
read  and  re-read  the  inscription  and  pondered  over  it 


04  ALM1RANTE 

deeply.  MVhat  was  the  nature  of  my  thoughts  it  would 
be  difficult  to  say.  Amazement,  incredulity,  despair 
and  hopelessness  were  interblended  in  wild  confusion, 
and  at  last,  in  sheer  desperation,  I  sprang  upon 
my  horse  and  galloped  up  the  slope,  resolved  to  act 
upon  Almirante's  advice,  and  seek  within  the  walls  of 
the  mansion  he  called  mine  what  further  secrets  of 
my  life  remained  to  be  told. 

Reaching  the  summit  of  the  hill  I  drew  rein  and 
gazed  once  more  over  the  glorious  expanse  surround 
ing  me.  Once  more  my  eyes  roved  over  the  noble 
domain  inclosed  within  the  boundaries  Don  Hernando 
had  named,  and  in  spite  of  the  many  sad  circumstances 
of  my  present  position,  a  sense  of  pride  and  elation 
rose  in  my  mind.  I  found  myself  uttering  aloud  : 

"And  this  is  all  mine!" 

The  sound  of  my  own  voice  startled  me,  and  once 
more  loosening  my  rein  I  rode  on  in  the  direction  of 
the  building,  but  now  at  a  more  gentle  pace,  survey 
ing  the  land  as  I  went.  The  nearer  I  approached  the 
house,  the  greater  became  my  admiration  of  the  fer 
tility  and  natural  beauty  of  the  estate,  and  when  I  at 
length  reached  the  hacienda,  and  noted  its  massive- 
ness  and  size,  I  could  not  but  feel  that  mine  was  a 
goodly  heritage — if,  indeed,  so  strange  a  thing  could 
possibly  be  true. 

It  was  after  mid-day  when  I  rode  up  to  the  arched 


I  HE  GRAVE  ON  THE  CLIFF  65 

gateway.  There  seemed  to  be  no  one  moving  about 
the  place,  but  the  sight  of  a  stout  looking  peon,  lying 
sound  asleep  beside  the  entrance,  suggested  to  me 
that  the  remainder  of  the  household  were  also  enjoy 
ing  their  afternoon  siesta.  The  door  stood  wide 
open,  and  leaving  my  horse  standing  without  I  en 
tered  the  passageway  leading  to  the  courtyard  in  the 
center,  for  the  house  was  built  upon  the  same  plan 
as  Don  Hernando's,  in  the  form  of  a  hollow  square. 
Reaching  the  interior  I  paused  for  a  few  moments  in 
delighted  astonishment,  for  the  courtyard  seemed  a 
paradise  in  miniature.  A  fountain  scattered  its  crys 
tal  spray  in  the  center,  and  arranged  around  were 
flowers  of  numberless  varieties,  filling  the  air  with  fra 
grance.  A  shady  piazza  ran  around  three  sides  of  the 
court,  and  the  numerous  doorways  opening  into  the 
interior  apartments  were  screened  by  delicate  cur 
tains.  I  walked  to  one  of  these  entrances,  and  draw 
ing  aside  the  screen  entered  the  room. 

I  advanced  but  one  pace  within  it  when  my  steps 
were  suddenly  and  involuntarily  arrested.  Upon  the 
wall  opposite,  framed  in  massive  oak,  there  hung  a 
pictured  face.  I  knew  it  was  my  father's. 

Mine  were  the  eyes  and  the  features,  the  fair, 
clustering  hair.  But  our  lives  had  been  different,  and 
my  own,  as  yet,  had  known  no  passages  which  could 
give  to  me  that  look  of  daring,  dauntless  resolution 


66  ALMIRANTE 

that  in  him  so  plainly  spoke  the  soldier.  Arms  and 
warlike  accoutrements  hung  about,  but  I  only  needed 
to  look  upon  my  father's  face  to  know  that  he  had 
been  a  warrior  and  a  leader  of  warriors. 

Pinned  to  the  wall  beside  the  picture  was  a  long 
Mexican  lance,  from  which  still  drooped  a  pennon  of 
faded  crimson.  Beside  it  hung  a  sabre,  in  a  massive 
metal  scabbard,  upon  which  an  inscription  in  Spanish 
was  engraved  so  deeply  that  it  caught  my  eye  even  in 
the  first  glance  I  turned  upon  the  weapon : 

"  To  ALVA,  from  his  brother  in  love  and  comrade 
in  arms,  HERNANDO  ALMIRANTE." 

I  gazed  at  the  picture,  and  here,  too,  was  an 
inscription  : 

"  ALFRED — as  I  saw  him  last.     LOLA." 

Lola — who  was  Lola? 

I  turned  as  if  for  an  answer — and  the  answer  was 
there. 

Upon  a  low  couch  in  an  alcove  opposite  lay  a  lady- 
asleep.  She  was  yet  young  and  beautiful,  though 
deep  lines  of  suffering  were  visible  about  her  brow 
and  eyes,  and  her  hair  was  thickly  streaked  with  gray. 
Strange  thoughts  began  to  move  in  my  mind.  Her 
features  resembled  none  that  I  remembered,  but  their 
expression  seemed  strangely  familiar.  Where  had  1 
seen  anything  similar?  Then  the  knowledge  flashed 
upon  me.  //  was  the  expression  of  my  own  features! 


THE  GRAVE  ON  THE  CLIFF  67 

But  the  thought  had  barely  shaped  itself  in  my  mind 
when  the  lady  awoke,  and  affer  gazing  at  me  for  one 
moment  in  blank  amazement,  a  look  of  unutterable  joy 
came  into  her  eyes,  and  springing  up  she  threw  her 
self  into  my  arms,  exclaiming  : 

"  O,  Alfred !  my  son  !  my  son  I  you  have  come  to 
me  at  last  I" 

4 


ALM1KANTE 


CHAPTER  IX. 

LEAVES   FROM   THE    PAST. 

There  was  no  doubt  in  my  mind  now.  I  had 
"hesitated  to  believe  Don  Hernando's  story  in  spite  of 
the  circumstantial  evidence  to  which  he  had  referred 
in  support  of  its  truth,  but  now  it  needed  but  the 
throbbing  of  my  pulses,  the  flood  of  yearning  affec 
tion  which  welled  up  in  my  heart,  to  convince  me 
that  here  at  least  there  was  no  deceit.  I  knew  now 
that,  dearly  as  I  had  loved  her  whom  I  had  for  years 
called  mother,  and  well  as  she  had  deserved  my  devo 
tion,  it  was  here  that  my  fondest  affection  was  due. 
My  mind  was  still  in  a  maze  of  bewilderment,  but  my 
.heart  told  me  this  was  my  mother. 

For  many  moments  she  clung  to  me,  locked  in  my 
arms,  sometimes  resting  with  her  head  upon  my 
breast,  motionless  except  for  her  deep  drawn  sighs, 
and  again  drawing  slightly  back  to  fix  her  loving  eyes 
upon  my  face,  while  for  a  long  time  she  seemed  una 
ble  to  utter  a  word.  At  last  her  lips  seemed  to 
move,  and  I  heard  her  say,  almost  in  a  whisper  : 

"  My  boy  !  my  boy  !  The  son  of  my  lost  Alfred ! 
Come  to  me  at  last  in  the  image  of  his  father  1  O, 
.tny  darling  1 


LEAVES  FROM  THE  PAST  69 

Bewildered  and  amazed  as  I  was,  I  could  only 
reply  by  pressing  my  lips  to  the  pale  forehead  where 
the  hand  of  care  had  rested  so  gently  but  alas!  so 
plainly.  And  she  needed  no  words.  She  knew  that 
her  son  was  restored  to  her,  and  in  that  knowledge 
her  soul  was  content. 

After  a  time  she  became  calmer,  and  drawing  me 
to  a  seat  placed  herself  by  my  side.  All  that  was  said 
in  the  next  few  hours  it  would  be  impossible  to  write. 
Many  and  many  were  the  questions  asked  and  an 
swered  on  either  side ;  many  the  exclamations  of  as 
tonishment,  pity  or  dismay.  I  told  her  all  I  knew  of 
my  life,  and  learned  much  of  which  I  had  had  no 
knowledge.  But  of  all  that  I  heard,  what  interested 
me  most  was  the  history  of  my  father. 

In  his  youth,  being  of  a  roving  disposition,  he 
had  wandered  to  Mexico,  and  had  there  formed  the 
acquaintance  of  Don  Hernando  Almirante,  a  young 
man  of  about  his  own  age.  The  two  soon  became 
warmly  attached,  and  Almirante's  family,  for  his 
parents  were  then  living,  received  the  young  stranger 
into  their  home  and  treated  him  as  one  of  themselves. 
He  remained  with  them  for  many  months,  his  enter 
tainers  earnestly  and  affectionately  protesting  against 
his  departure  whenever  he  made  mention  of  it.  Nor 
was  it  difficult  to  persuade  him,  since  in  the  person  of 
Lola  Almirante,  an  adopted  daughter  of  the  family 


70  ALMIRANTE 

whose  name  she  bore,  there  existed  an  attraction 
which  the  young  American  had  from  the  first  found 
himself  unable  to  resist.  Well  aware  that  his  love 
was  reciprocated,  but  painfully  conscious  of  the  very 
modest  property  of  which  he  was  possessed,  he  hesi 
tated  to  make  his  attacnment  known,  being  too 
proud  to  offer  himself  as  a  suitor  for  one  of  a  family 
in  the  highest  degree  wealthy,  until  by  some  anx 
iously  hoped  for  opportunity  he  should  be  enabled  to 
greatly  improve  his  own  fortunes.  Circumstances, 
however,  soon  occurred  which  materially  changed  the 
aspect  of  affairs. 

In  one  of  their  country's  periodical  insurrections 
against  the  government,  the  Almirante  family  es 
poused  the  revolutionary,  and,  as  it  proved,  the  losing 
side ;  and  the  defeat  of  their  party  deprived  them  of 
position,  influence  and  property.  Outlawed  and  pro 
scribed,  the  entire  family,  together  with  a  number  of 
their  retainers,  were  compelled,  for  their  own  preser 
vation,  to  flee  to  the  mountains  and  adopt  a  sort  of 
half-bandit,  half- guerrilla  mode  of  life,  under  the 
hardships  of  which  the  senior  Almirante  and  his  wife 
soon  sank  and  died.  Hernando  and  his  friend — for 
the  latter  had  sharea  all  the  enterprises  and  misfor 
tunes  of  his  hosts — continued  their  desultory  warfare 
for  some  time  longer,  when  the  young  Almirante  was 
unfortunately  captured.  Contrary  to  the  general  ex- 


LEAVES  FROM  THE  PAST  71 

pectation,  however,  he  was  not  executed,  but  the  gov 
ernment,  for  once  lenient  to  a  remarkable  degree, 
offered  to  pardon  the  two  young  men  and  their  fol 
lowers  for  the  part  they  had  taken  in  the  rebellion,  on 
condition  of  their  going  northward  and  settling  in  the 
wilderness  of  California,  where  large  tracts  of  wild 
land  were  to  be  granted  them.  They  thought  best  to 
agree  to  this  proposal,  and  as  the  authorities  insisted 
on  detaining  Hernando  as  a  hostage  for  the  faithful 
fulfillment  of  their  contract,  his  friend  led  their  little 
band  across  the  country  to  a  port  upon  the  Pacific, 
whence  they  set  sail  for  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco. 

Upon  the  eve  of  their  embarkation,  Lola  Almi- 
rante  and  Alfred  Rivers  were  united  in  marriage,  all 
fancied  obstacles  to  their  union  having  long  before 
been  dissipated  by  the  stern  realities  which  they  had 
met  with  and  undergone  together.  Regretting  that 
they  were  compered  to  leave  Hernando  behind,  yet 
consoled  by  the  reflection  that  he  would  soon  follow 
them,  they  set  their  faces  northward,  happy  in  the 
present  since  they  were  blessed  with  each  other's  love, 
and  confident  in  their  own  ability  to  render  the  future 
all  that  they  might  desire. 

Their  voyage  was  prosperous  in  the  highest  degree, 
-as  was  also  the  journey  from  the  port  to  the  locality 
where  they  determined  to  settle.  The  late  revolu 
tionist  went  energetically  to  work,  and  as  he  was  ably 


72  ALM1RANTE 

/•— • 

and  faithfully  seconded  by  his  followers,  the  effect  of 
their  industry  was  soon  apparent.  As  some  defense 
was  necessary  against  the  aborigines,  who  could  not 
be  trusted,  the  building  of  a  house,  practically  a  fort 
ress,  was  one  of  the  first  labors  undertaken.  It  was 
pushed  forward  to  a  speedy  completion,  and  when 
once  at  home  within  its  walls  the  young  couple  and 
their  faithful  servants  felt  secure  as  to  both  the  pres 
ent  and  the  future. 

One  thing  troubled  them— the  non- arrival  of  Her- 
nando  Almirante.  He  was  to  have  been  released 
immediately  after  their  own  departure,  and  allowed  to 
follow  upon  the  first  vessel  sailing  northward.  Weeks- 
and  months  passed  and  he  did  not  come,  nor  any 
word  of  his  welfare.  Impatience  became  anxiety, 
and  anxiety  dread,  and  still  was  he  absent.  At  last  I 
was  born — the  first  white  child  of  that  wild  wilderness 
— and  still  no  word  of  the  absent.  Months  went  by. 
At  last — but  let  me  give  my  poor  mother's  own  words  : 

"  You  were  three  months  old,  and  I  was  sitting 
one  day,  with  you  in  my  arms,  beside  the  stream 
which  flows  below  the  hill,  waiting  for  your  father's  re 
turn,  for  he  had  as  usual  ridden  out  that  morning. 
Suddenly  I  was  startled  by  the  heavy  tramp  of  a 
horse,  and  a  rider  came  into  view  through  the  under 
wood  bordering  the  watercourse.  He  drew  near  and 
reined  in  his  horse  by  my  side,  and  I  recognized 


LEAVES  FROM  THE  PAST  7$ 

Hernando  Almirante.  I  would  have  sprung  up  to 
greet  him,  but  something  in  his  appearance  caused 
me  to  hesitate.  His  face  was  ghastly  pale,  and  his 
hollow  eyes  met  mine  with  a  look  so  sad,  so  stern  and 
reproachful  that  my  blood  froze  in  my  veins.  After 
a  moment  his  gaze  fell  upon  you,  but  only  for  an 
instant,  for  he  drew  his  hand  suddenly  across  his  eyes, 
and,  uttering  a  mad  cry,  struck  his  spurs  fiercely  into 
his  horse's  sides  and  dashed  away.  He  passed  out  of 
my  sight  in  a  moment  amid  the  woods,  and  I  left  my 
seat  and  hurried  to  the  house,  fearing  I  knew  not 
what.  I  told  the  servants  what  I  had  seen,  and  sent 
them  everywhere  in  search  of  your  father  and  Her- 
nando.  One  by  one,  as  the  hours  passed,  they 
returned  and  reported  their  efforts  fruitless.  A  dread 
ef  something  horrible  took  possession  of  me,  I  hardly 
knew  why,  and  I  paced  the  court  like  a  mad  crea 
ture,  feeling  sure  that  it  was  but  a  question  of  mo 
ments  when  some  dreadful  calamity  should  be  brought 
home  to  me. 

"A  servant  at  last  hurriedly  entered,  gloom  and 
horror  in  his  looks,  and  without  waiting  to  hear  his 
message  I  wrung  my  hands  and  screamed  thnt  my 
darling  was  dead,  dead  !  and  he  need  not  tell  me. 
He  shrunk  away  from  me  with  a  blanched  and  ghastly 
face,  and  spoke  in  a  whisper  to  the  other  servants. 
But  I  heard  him  plainly,  heard  him  say  that  Alfred's 


74  ALMIRANTE 

horse  had  just  dashed  up  to  the  gate,  riderless  and 
foaming  with  terror.  They  all  made  a  rush  through 
the  passage,  but  I  was  first.  I  reached  the  outer  door 
and  sprang  to  the  horse.  His  mane  was  clotted  with 
blood  and  the  saddle  was  stained  with  it.  I  remember 
screaming  aloud  :  '  He  is  dead  !  My  darling  is  dead ! 
Take  me — take  me  to  him!  and  let  me  die!'  and 
then  for  a  time  I  remembei  no  more.  O,  Alfred  ! 
Alfred  !" 

My  poor  mother !  She  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands,  and  sobbed  convulsively.  I  soothed  her  as 
best  I  could,  and  soon  becoming  calmer,  she  went  on  : 

"Yes,  they  brought  me  to  him;  placed  me  on  a 
litter  and  bore  me  with  them  while  they  searched; 
for,  raving  and  and  raging  as  I  was,  they  feared  to 
leave  me  behind.  The  horse  led  the  way  like  a  hu 
man  guide,  and  we  followed  him  over  the  hills  toward 
the  coast.  He  brought  us  at  last  to  the  verge  of  the 
cliffs,  and  there  we  found  him — found  my  dead  !  He 
lay  upon  the  sward,  motionles?,  cold  and  still,  his 
white  face  turned  toward  the  sky,  and  the  light  of 
his  blue  eyes  quenched  forever.  His  fair  hair  lay 
about  his  forehead  in  heavy  masses,  bright  as  in  life. 
There  was  no  stain  there,  but  upon  his  breast  was  the 
horrible  wound  through  which  his  brave  young  life- 
blood  had  gone  out,  and  beside  his  body,  stern  and 
cold,  making  no  attempt  to  conceal  his  guilt,  was  the 


LEAVES  FROM  THE  PAST  75 

murderer,  him  whom  I  had  for  so  many  years  called 
brother.  What  I  said  or  did  I  do  not  know,  for  God, 
in  mercy,  sent  me  forgetful  ness." 

Again  did  my  mother  pause,  overcome  by  these 
dreadful  memories  of  the  past,  but,  once  more  recov 
ering  herself,  she  resumed : 

"  They  buried  him  where  he  fell — buried  him  there 
by  his  murderer's  orders.  Don  Hernando  never 
attempted  to  deny  or  explain  his  crime,  yet  he  claimed 
the  right  to  regulate  everything.  There  was  no  one 
to  say  him  nay.  The  servants  were  his  own,  rather 
than  mine,  and  I,  lying  helpless  upon  my  couch,  daily 
expecting  death,  was  not  prepared  to  dispute  his  will. 
Yet  in  one  thing  did  I  have  my  way,  sadly  to  my 
grief  afterward.  I  sent  him  a  message,  for  he  never 
came  into  my  presence,  invoking  God's  curse  upon 
his  head,  if  he  did  not  send  you,  my  motherless  boy, 
back  to  your  father's  kindred.  I  would  not  have  you 
brought  up  by  that  father's  murderer. 

"After  this  I  sank  into  a  state  of  dull  stupor,  from 
which  no  one  expected  me  to  awaken,  and  when  word 
came  that  an  American  vessel,  bound  for  New  Eng 
land,  was  lying  at  the  port,  they  thought  best  not  to 
delay  sending  you  away,  since  another  opportunity 
might  never  occur,  or  not  for  many  years.  So,  in  the 
care  of  my  own  nurse,  Juanita,  you  left  me,  and  I — 
ah,  heaven!  was  it  not  strange? — I  grew  stronger  from 


76  ALM1RANTE 

that  hour,  and  at  last  recovered  ;  recovered  to  find 
myself  not  only  a  widow,  but  childless  as  well. 

"  In  all  these  years  I  have  heard  nothing  of  you 
until  a  few  days  since,  when  word  came — I  can  guess 
from  whom — that  you  might  soon  be  expected  to  re 
turn.  How  our  affairs  have  been  managed  until  now 
I  cannot  tell.  They  have  prospered,  either  because 
our  servants  have  been  unusually  faithful,  or  if  other 
wise,  then  Hernando  Almirante,  without  my  knowl 
edge  and  against  my  will,  has  directed  them.  If  this 
last  be  so,  then  heaven  forgive  me  that  I  have  even 
unwittingly  allowed  it.  But  now  it  is  all  ended.  Cocae 
with  me,  Alfred,  my  own  dear  son,"  she  exclaimed, 
rising  impetuously  and  moving  toward  the  door,  her 
hand  still  holding  mine,  "come  with  me  and  greet 
those  who  will  call  you  master." 

We  stepped  out  into  tl  \  court.  A  numerous 
assemblage  was  gathered  there,  for  the  news  of  my 
arrival  had  already,  by  some  unknown  means,  spread 
among  the  servants  of  the  estate.  As  they  saw  me  a 
wild  "Viva"  rent  the  air,  for  they  did  not  wait  to 
hear  my  name.  Some  there  were,  however,  who  did 
not  shout — old  and  gray-headed  men  who  came  softly 
to  my  side,  and  pressed  my  hands  within  their  own, 
muttering  brokenly,  while  the  tears  fell  from  theit 
eyes: 


LEAVES  FROM  THE  FAST  77 

" His  son!  Our  brave  Don  Alva's  own  true  child! 
God  and  Holy  Mary  guard  him!" 

My  mother  wept,  and  said,  as  soon  as  she  could 
speak  : 

"These  are  the  brave  men  who  followed  your 
father  in  the  mountains  of  Mexico.  They  are  as  true 
now  as  of  old.  God  bless  them  and  all  others  who 
are  faithful  to  my  sonl" 


78  ALMIRANTE 


CHAPTER  X, 

THE   PARTING. 

Two  months  had  passed.  I  had  entered  into  full 
possession  of  the  estate,  for  it  was  my  mother's  will 
that  I  should  be  regarded  as  its  absolute  owner.  It 
had  been  managed  admirably,  and  I  found  no  diffi 
culty  in  assuming  the  control,  aided  as  I  was  by 
Sanchez,  an  old  Mexican,  through  whose  means  Don 
Hernando  had  been  enabled  heretofore  to  regulate  its 
concerns.  There  was  nothing  necessary  in  our  simple 
life  which  we  could  not  produce  within  the  limits  of  our 
own  domain.  As  for  luxuries,  they  were,  to  a  certain 
extent  at  least,  readily  obtained  by  barter  with  the 
trading  vessels  of  various  nationalities  which  occas- 
ionly  visited  our  coast.  Our  dependants  were  honest 
and  devotedly  loyal.  Last,  but  greatest,  I  was 
blessed  with  the  fondest  affection  that  ever  a  mother 
gave  her  son.  Yet  I  was  thoroughly  unhappy. 

From  the  roof  of  my  own  home  I  could  see  the 
hacienda  of  Almirante.  I  need  not  say  that  I  had 
never  again  been  within  its  walls  since  that  fatal  morn 
ing  when  I  had  quitted  them  as  I  then  thought  tem 
porarily,  but  as  it  now  seemed,  forever.  The  name 
of  any  of  its  inmates  was  never  mentioned  by  either 


THE  PARTING  79 

my  mother  or  myself.  But  with  its  white  walls  con 
stantly  before  my  eyes,  I  could  not  blot  from  my 
mind  the  remembrance  of  those  few  weeks  of  happi 
ness  and  hope  I  had  spent  there,  and  while  that 
memory  remained  contentment  was  impossible.  I 
surprised  and  I  fear  sometimes  alarmed  my  mother 
by  taking  long,  solitary  rides  about  the  estate,  always 
with  some  apparent  and  commonplace  object  in  view, 
but  conscious  myself  of  being  chiefly  influenced  in 
my  action  by  a  vague  hope  of  something — I  scarcely 
knew  what.  And  at  last  that  hope  was  answered  in  a 
way  I  had  not  dared  to  look  for. 

Late  one  afternoon  I  was  riding  recklessly  along 
the  bank  of  a  willow-fringed  stream  far  to  the  north 
ward  of  my  home  and  near  the  boundary  of  the 
Almirante  rancho,  when  my  horse  suddenly  came  to 
a  full  stop  with  an  abruptness  which  almost  unseated 
me.  Recovering  mys&lf  I  saw  before  me  another 
steed  and  rider,  but  it  was  a  female  figure  that  sat  in 
the  saddle,  and  I  recognized  Ina  Almirante. 

She  had  let  her  bridle  reins  fall  upon  the  ;neck  of 
her  steed,  and  her  hands  were  clasped  upon  her 
breast,  while  her  eyes  met  mine  with  an  expression  of 
terror.  I  must  indeed  have  been  a  startling  object. 
A  broad-brimmed  black  sombrero  was  pulled  low 
down  on  my  forehead,  darkening  and  partially  con 
cealing  my  face.  The  brown  barrel  of  a  carbine 


.80  ALMIRANTE 

projected  above  one  shoulder,  and  a  huge  pair"  of  pis 
tols  hung  in  their  holsters  from  the  pommel  of  my 
saddle,  while  a  fearful  looking  weapon,  called  a  hunt 
ing  knife,  but  in  reality  more  like  a  broad  sword, 
swung  from  my  belt. 

"Inal" 

"Alfred!" 

We  had  not  addressed  each  other  thus  in  our  pre 
vious  intercourse,  but  I  had  never  thought  of  her  by 
any  other  name,  and  in  the  surprise  of  the  moment  it 
escaped  me  involuntarily.  At  the  same  instant  a 
thrill  of  joy  flashed  through  me,  at  the  conviction  that 
it  was  with  her  as  with  me,  and  that  I  had  dwelt  in 
her  thoughts,  perhaps,  even  as  she  had  in  mine. 

As  I  drew  nearer  I  was  shocked  to  perceive  the  alter 
ation  which  her  face  seemed  to  have  undergone  since 
I  had  last  seen  her.  Her  eyes  were  as  darkly  beautiful 
as  of  old,  but  there  was  in  them  an  expression  of  the 
deepest  sadness,  while  heavy  semi-circles  were  visible 
beneath.  Her  cheeks  were  sunken  and  hollow,  and  the 
deep  glow  that  had  once  lent  such  beauty  to  her  face 
had  faded  utterly  and  left  it  colorless  and  pale.  For 
a  moment,  however,  after  she  had  uttered  my  name,  a 
faint  shade  of  carn.ine  did  for  a  moment  tinge  her 
cheeks,  and  she  cast  down  her  eyes.  My  confusion 
•was  nearly  equal  to  hers,  but  at  last  I  found  my  voice. 

"  Dunna  Ina,"   I  said,  hesitatingly,  "  foigtve  me 


THE  PARTING  gi 

for  having  intruded  upon  you,  but  I  never  dreamed  of 
meeting  you  here— so  far  away  from  your  home  and 
alone." 

"I  wished,"  she  said  in  a  low  tone,  "I  wished  — 
I  mean,  I  could  not  go  away  without — " 

Her  voice  faltered,  she  paused  and  was  silent.  * 

"  Go  away!"  I  repeated  in  consternation,  "  Donna 
Ina,  you  do  not  mean  that  you — " 

I  ceased  speaking,  for  a  sudden  pang  of  something- 
very  like  despair  checked  my  utterance. 

Her  white  lips  trembled  but  uttered  no  sound  and 
she  lifted  her  sad  eyes  to  mine  with  an  expression  so 
unutterably  mournful  that,  moved  beyond  restraint,  I 
sprang  from  my  horse  and  coming  to  her  side  clasped 
her  cold  hand  in  mine,  exclaiming  passionately: 

"Ina,  dear,  dear  Ina!  what  is  it?  For  God's 
sake  tell  me !  Are  you  ill  ?" 

Her  hand  trembled  in  mine,  but  she  did  not  with 
draw  it,  and  as  her  head  sank  upon  her  breast,  tears 
fell  from  her  eyes,  and  she  murmured,  almost  inaudi- 
bly : 

"  I  am  so  unhappy  !" 

"  But  why,  Ina,  why  ?" 

"  I  am  going  away,  away  from  this,  my  home 
where  I  have  lived  all  my  life,  to  the  far  Phillipine 
isles,  and  I  fear  that  I  shall  never  see  these  scenes 
again." 


Sa  ALMIRANTE 

"But  why  do  you  go ?  If  you  are  happy  here, 
why  not  remain  ?'' 

"Ah,  but  I  am  not  happy  here." 

"And  God  knows  I  am  not,"  I  could  not  help 
adding. 

She  started  and  fixed  her  eyes  upon  me  with  a 
questioning  look,  and  after  a  moment's  pause,  asked 
hesitatingly: 

"Senor  Alfred,  will  you  answer  two  questions  for 
me?" 

"Anything,  anything  that  I  can." 

"Then  why  did  you  leave  our  house  as  you  did, 
and  why,  since  then,  has  my  father  never  mentioned 
your  name,  except  once  to  forbid  us  ever  uttering  it 
again  ?" 

"  Sefiorita,  these  are  your  father's  own  secrets.  1 
cannot  make  them  known." 

"  Even  you  will  not  trust  me." 

"  Trust  you— O,  Jna!" 

"  Senor,  it  is  late,  and  I  am  far  from  home.  Let 
me  go." 

"  Ina,  how  can  you  be  angry  with  me  for  this,  and 
at  such  a  time?" 

"  But  indeed  I  must  go,  Senor,  and  I  am  not 
angry.  Why  should  I  be?  You  have  been  only  the 
kindest  of  frienns  to  me,  and  since  you  left  our  home 
I  have  missed  you  as  I  would  my  brother.  I  am  glad 


THE  PARTING  83 

that  we  met  to-day,  that  I  can  say  farewell  to  you  be 
fore  I  go." 

"  But  O,  Tna,  will  you  really  go  ?" 

"  Have  I  not  said  I  should  ?  It  is  my  father's 
will,  and  I  care  not  to  dispute  it.  Farewell,  Senor." 

"  No,  no!  At  least  not  here.  It  is  a  long  ride  to 
your  home,  too  long  and  lonely  for  an  unprotected 
girl.  I  shall  ride  with  you  if  you  do  not  forbid  me." 

She  hesitated,  and  the  sad  look  deepened  in  her 
eyes,  but  at  last  she  answered  : 

"  No,  I  do  not  forbid  you.  I  should  like  you  to 
come.  It  is  for  the  last  time." 

But  that  was  the  saddest  ride  I  had  ever  taken, 
We  rode  side  by  side,  over  grass-covered  hills  and 
through  flower-decked  valleys,  and  scarcely  spoke  a 
word .  The  loveliest  scenes  of  nature  lay  about  our 
path,  but  we  saw  them  with  unseeing  eyes.  Desper 
ate  as  I  was  over  the  prospect  of  Ina's  departure,  I 
nevertheless,  began  to  long  for  the  end  of  our  ride. 
It  was  misery  unspeakable  to  be  so  near  her,  and 
yet  feel  that  we  were  separated  by  a  gulf  which  noth 
ing  could  bridge. 

Darkness  overtook  us  while  we  were  yet  some 
distance  from  the  hacienda,  and  when  we  at  length 
reached  the  foot  of  the  hill  upon  which  it  was  situated, 
it  was  quite  late.  Moved  by  a  common  impulse  we 
drew  rein  in  the  shadow  of  a  copse  of  laurel.  A 


*4  ALMIRANTE 

moment  silently  passed,  and  then,  extending  her  hand 
to  me,  Ina  said  : 

"  Farewell." 

But  I  seized  both  her  hands  in  mine  and,  forget 
ting  all  else  but  the  love  I  felt  for  her,  murmured  in 
low  and  passionate  tones : 

"No,  no,  it  must  not  bel  O,  Ina,  my  darling, 
my  darling  !  I  cannot  bear  to  part  from  you  thus. 
You  know  that  I  love  you.  In  all  the  months  that 
have  passed  since  your  tender  care  saved  me  from 
death  you  have  never  been  out  of  my  thoughts.  I 
have  dared  to  believe  that  you  cared  for  me,  and 
now — O,  my  love  !  my  love!  can  you  leave  me  thus 
— and  forever?" 

"  Can  you  ask  me  to  stay  ?" 

O,  my  God  1  She  spoke  in  that  low,  sweet  voice 
which  had  ever  seemed  to  me  like  a  breath  of  music, 
but  the  question  pierced  to  my  heart  like  a  sword.  I 
turned  away  and  buried  my  face  in  my  hands  with  a 
sensation  of  utter  despair. 

She  came  to  me  now,  urging  her  horse  close  beside 
mine,  and  spoke  again  in  her  pure  and  gentle  tones: 

"  No,  Alfred,  you  see  that  it  cannot  be.  It  is 
better,  far  better  that  I  should  go.  I  do  not  know 
what  terrible  thing  it  is  that  causes  us  all  this  dreadful 
pain,  but  I  do  know  that  it  is  nothing  for  which  you 
are  to  blame.  But  I  could  never  be  happy  were  we  to 


THE  PARTING  85 

remain  so  near  together,  and  yet  be  only  enemies. 
But  when  I  am  far  hence  my  prayers  shall  daily  and 
hourly  rise  to  heaven  for  your  happiness  and  welfare. 
Alfred,  good  bye." 

She  extended  her  hands  toward  me,  but  I  took 
them  in  mine  only  to  draw  her  to  me  and  clasp  her  in 
my  arms.  She  did  not  resist.  She  was  too  utterly 
sinless  herself  to  dream  of  wrong  in  another.  She 
knew  her  own  innocence  and  trusted  in  mine,  and  the 
impulse  which  moved  her  to  raise  her  lips  to  my  own 
was  the  purest  that  ever  came  from  God.  For  one 
moment  only  she  rested  in  my  arms,  and  then,  draw 
ing  herself  away,  she  said  gently  :  "  Now  go,  Al 
fred,  go  without  a  word.  Go,  and  may  the  good 
Jesus  and  his  holy  Mother  bless  and  protect  you." 

I  obeyed  her  in  silence,  turning  my  horse  and 
riding  away  without  a  word.  I  never  looked  back, 
but  with  my  head  bent  low  upon  my  breast,  rode 
slowly  on  through  the  darkness  toward  my  own  home. 
Everything  in  life  seemed  ended. 

I  had  gone  perhaps  the  eighth  of  a  mile  when  I 
suddenly  reined  in  my  horse  and  listened  in  painful 
anxiety,  for  it  certainly  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  heard 
my  name  called  in  accents  of  alarm.  So  strong  was 
the  impression  that,  after  vainly  listening  for  a  repeti 
tion  of  the  sound,  I  turned  and  galloped  rapidly  back 
to  the  spot  I  had  just  quitted.  When  I  reached  it, 


Of  THK 

UNIVERSITY 


86  ALM1RANTE 

however,  all  was  dead  silence,  and  there  was  no  one 
visible,  Ina  evidently  having  gone  to  the  house. 
After  a  hasty  examination  I  turned  once  more,  cen 
suring  ray  own  nervousness  and  credulity,  and  rode 
swiftly  homeward.  It  was  almost  midnight  when  I 
arrived  there,  and  my  mother  had  become  most  anx 
ious.  However,  her  mind  being  set  at  rest  by  my 
arrival,  she  soon  retired,  leaving  me  to  my  medita 
tions,  for  I  felt  no  inclination  to  sleep. 

An  hour  probably  passed,  when  sounds  of  confu 
sion  without  the  hacienda  attracted  my  attention  and 
caused  me  to  ascend  to  the  roof  to  investigate. 
When  I  reached  my  post  of  observation  there  was 
nothing  to  be  seen,  but  I  could  hear  sounds  as  of 
a  large  number  of  horses  galloping  northward  at  full 
speed.  In  that,  however,  there  was  nothing  to  be 
be  surprised  at,  since  both  Don  Hernando  and  my 
self  possessed  herds  of  untamed  animals  that  roamed 
at  will  all  over  our  possessions.  Deceived  for  the  sec 
ond  time,  I  now  sought  my  couch,  and,  utterly 
wearied  as  I  was,  after  a  time  fell  asleep. 

But  it  was  a  short  and  troubled  slumber;  a  slum 
ber  from  which  I  awoke  at  the  first  dawn  of  morning, 
to  find  Don  Hernando  Almirante  standing  over  me, 
white  and  dreadful  to  look  upon,  and  sternly  de 
manding  : 

"Alfred  Rivers,  where  is  my  daughter?" 


THE  PURSUIT  87 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   PURSUIT. 

"  Your  daughter  !      How  should  I  know?'* 
"Boy!    do  not  dare  to  trifle  with  me!     For  the 
love  of  Christ,  remember  the  past,  and  take  warning 
from  it  !" 

His  heavy  hand  lay  upon  my  breast,  and  by  the 
faint  light  of  the  lamp  which  I  had  left  burning  I 
could  see  that  his  face  bore  an  expression  of  con 
suming  passion.  Looking  at  him  now,  I  was  more 
willing  to  believe  in  the  possibility  of  his  passionate 
nature  driving  him  at  times  to  violent  extremes. 
Nevertheless,  angered  by  his  words  and  actions,  I 
answered : 

"  The  past !      The  past  is  for  you  io  remember !" 
11 1  do  remember  it !     If  it  were  not  for  that  mem 
ory  you  would  not  be  alive  this  instant.     But  enough 
of  this  trifling!      Where   is  my  daughter?     Give  her 
up,  or  else — God  help  us  both!" 

An  idea  of  what  had  happened  had  by  this  time 
forced  itself  upon  my  mind,  and  springing  up,  fully 
clothed,  for  in  my  weariness  of  the  night  before  I  had 
flung  myself  upon  my  couch  just  as  I  was,  I  ex 
claimed  : 


88  ALMIRAME 

"  Your  daughter  !     Great  God  !     Is  Ina  gone  ?" 

An  instantaneous  change  came  over  his  face. 
Something  seemed  suddenly  to  convince  him  that  he 
had  erred  in  his  suspicions,  and  with  an  abrupt  alter 
ation  in  his  manner,  he  cried  : 

"  O,  Alfred!  forgive  me!  Have  I  indeed  so 
wronged  you?  But  heaven  pity  me,  for  my  child, 
my  darling,  has  gone  from  me,  and  I  know  not  what 
has  befallen  her." 

"  When  did  she  go?" 

"Ah!  that  you  should  be  more  able  to  answer  than 
I.  I  have  not  seen  her  since  noon  yesterday,  when 
she  rode  out,  as  was  her  daily  custom,  though  she 
had  never  before  gone  beyond  sight  of  the  house. 
You  were  the  last  known  to  have  been  with  her,  for 
Pedro  Gomez  saw  you  riding  together  late  yesterday 
evening.  Can  you  wonder,  then,  at  my  suspicion  ? 
— and  do  you  truly  know  nothing  of  her  ?" 

"  Upon  my  honor  and  my  life  I  do  not.  I  met 
her  at  the  base  of  the  mountains  to  the  northward, 
and  we  rode  together  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  below 
your  hacienda.  There  I  left  her." 

"And  you  know  nothing  of  her  now  ?" 

"I  do  not." 

"  O,  my  God  !" 

His  head  sank  upon  his  breast,  and  for  a  moment 
he  stood  motionless  in  an  attitude  of  deep  dejection. 


THE  PURSUIT  89 

but  soon  recovering  himself,  started  up  erect,  exclaim 
ing  angrily  : 

"  Shame  upon  me,  that  I  waste  time  thus  idly, 
when  I  should  instead  be  scouring  every  rod  of  land 
about  for  traces  of  my  child  1  Shame  upon  such 
weakness  !" 

He  rushed  from  the  room.  I  followed  immedi 
ately,  but  in  the  court  I  was  detained  a  moment  by 
my  porter,  while  Don  Hernando  passed  on  and  out 
of  sight  through  the  passageway. 

"  What  is  it,  Juan  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  have  something  to  say,  master,"  he  answered, 
hesitatingly  ;  "but  first — you  are  not  angry  that  I  ad 
mitted  Don  Hernando  ?" 

"  No,  I  am  not  angry,  Juan,"  I  replied,  "  but  why 
did  you  do  so  ?" 

His  answer  touched  me. 

"  Because  I  trusted  you,  my  master  ;  I  knew  you 
had  not  done  him  wrong,  and  it  would  do  no  harm  to 
let  him  satisfy  himself.  But  I  refused  admittance  to 
his  followers." 

"  His  followers !     He  is  not  alone,  then  ?" 

"Alone  !  he  has  every  man  who  dwells  upon  his 
lands  with  him,  and  all  armed  to  the  teeth." 

"Indeed!  You  did  well  to  keep  them  without, 
Juan  ;  but  now  let  me  go." 

"  Stay,  Don  Alva,  you  have  not  yet  heard — " 


90  ALMIRANTE 

"  True,  I  forgot     What  is  it  ?" 

He  came  to  my  side  and  whispered,  though  there 
was  no  reason  for  secrecy  : 

"The  horses,  Seiior,  that  we  heard  at  midnight, 
I  fear  that  they  had  riders." 

"  Good  God  !  and  that  cry." 

"Cry!    What  cry,  Don  Alva?" 

I  did  not  stay  to  answer,  b  it  rushed  through  the 
passageway  and  joined  Don  Hernando  without.  His 
son,  Carlos,  was  with  him,  and  also  a  large  and  well 
armed  band  of  horsemen.  Almirante  was  giving 
some  orders  to  his  followers,  but  ceased  speaking 
upon  my  abrupt  appearance,  and  turned  to  me  in 
quiringly.  In  a  few  words  I  told  him  what  I  had  to 
disclose.  For  a  moment  there  was  a  dead  pause  ; 
then  from  Don  Hernando  came  the  words,  low  and 
distinct,  but  fraught  with  dread  and  anguish — 

•'  O,  mother  of  God  1  had  it  been  anything  but 
this !" 

His  son  spurred  to  his  side. 

"What  is  it,  my  father?"  he  asked,  anxiously; 
"  what  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  God  have  mercy  on  her  and  on  us !"  groaned 
his  father,  clasping  his  hands  convulsively  together. 
"Ramon  Estrada  1" 

A  cry  of  horror  burst  from  the  whole  band,  and 
Carlos  almost  leaped  from  his  saddle,  his  eyes  blazing 


THE    PURSUIT  91 

with  a  mad  fire,  while  his  voice  seemed  scarcely  human 
in  the  intense  ferocity  of  its  tone  as  he  screamed 
rather  than  shouted : 

"  God  in  heaven!  Why  are  we  waiting  here  ?  On, 
on!  Follow  him,  follow  him  to  hell,  if  need  be,  him 
and  his  whole  black-hearted  crew!  Come  on!" 

He  struck  his  spurs  into  his  horse's  sides,  and  it 
bounded  forward ;  but  Don  Hernando  caught  the 
rein,  and  while  with  his  iron  grasp  he  held  the  rearing 
animal  motionless  in  the  air,  as  it  seemed,  he  cried 
to  me : 

"Which  way,  Alfred,  which  way  did  they  go? 
Where  shall  we  find  their  traces  ?" 

"They  passed  through  the  valley — there  to  the 
north." 

"The  black-hearted  scoundrel!  He  came  hither 
only  to  cast  our  suspicions  upon  you.  But  let  me  lay 
my  hands  upon  him,  and  then — God  judge  between 
us!" 

"Stay,  Don  Hernando!"  I  exclaimed;  "stay  but  a 
moment — I  cannot  remain  behind." 

"Follow  if  you  will,  but  nothing  under  heaven 
shall  detain  me  for  one  instant  longer  from  the  rescue 
of  my  child.  Now  let  us  go.  Away,  away/" 

They  swept  by  me  like  a  whirlwind,  and,  not  paus 
ing  to  watch  their  flight,  I  rushed  into  the  interior  of 
my  dwelling  to  summon  the  household.  It  was  not 


92  ALM1RANTE 

necessary.  The  court  was  already  filled  with  people, 
my  mother  among  them,  while  in  the  corral  inclosed 
within  the  rear  wall  of  the  hacienda  nearly  every  able- 
bodied  follower  I  claimed  as  mine  was  busily  engaged 
in  saddling  and  equipping  his  horse  for  immediate 
service.  In  the  pause  of  a  moment,  while  a  servant 
had  gone  for  my  weapons,  I  gave  what  scant  explana 
tion  I  could  to  my  mother,  and,  receiving  her  tearful 
blessing  and  farewell,  rushed  through  the  house  to  the 
corral  and  sprang  upon  my  horse,  which  had  already 
been  saddled.  With  a  word  of  warning  to  the  men 
who  were  to  be  left  in  charge  of  the  house  during  our 
absence,  I  gave  the  signal  to  those  who  were  to  ac 
company  me,  and  the  outer  gate  of  the  corral  being 
opened,  we  rode  silently  through.  Then,  with  a  wave 
of  the  hand  to  our  friends  and  a  touch  of  the  spur  to 
our  steeds,  we  shot  away  from  the  white  walls  of  my 
home  in  the  path  of  pursuers  and  pursued. 

Don  Hernando's  party  were  by  this  time  out  of 
sight,  the  inequalities  of  the  ground  concealing  them 
from  our  view.  It  was  of  little  consequence,  how 
ever,  since  we  knew  in  what  direction  they  had  gone, 
and  expected  to  soon  overtake  them.  At  all  events, 
as  the  dawn  was  now  rapidly  brightening  into  day, 
we  should  have  no  difficulty  in  following  the  foot 
prints  of  their  horses,  should  it  prove  necessary  to  do 
so.  So  we  rode  confidently  forward. 


THE  PURSUIT  93 

At  length,  having  ridden  a  distance  of  some  three 
miles  along  a  wooded  valley,  we  emerged  into  a  more 
open  country,  and  saw,  as  I  had  expected,  the  Almi- 
rante  party  plainly  in  view  and  but  a  comparatively 
short  distance  ahead.  Our  horses  were  evidently  of 
superior  swiftness  to  their  own,  or  otherwise,  which 
was  more  likely,  they  had  greater  difficulty  in  follow 
ing  the  trail,  since,  as  a  matter  of  course,  it  was  not 
nearly  so  well  defined  as  that  which  was  left  for  us. 
My  companions  uttered  a  triumphant  "  Viva"  as  we 
sighted  the  others,  which  they  heard  and  answered  by 
shouts  and  the  waving  of  scarfs,  without,  however,  re 
laxing  their  speed  in  the  least.  Nevertheless,  we 
gained  on  them  gradually,  and  at  last,  just  as  the  sun 
began  to  show  a  glittering  edge  above  the  eastern  hills, 
we  found  ourselves  riding  beside  them. 

Many  of  our  followers  were  armed  in  a  manner  re 
calling,  to  me  at  least,  the  memory  of  earlier  days, 
and  I  remember  even  at  that  moment  almost  doubt 
ing  my  own  identity,  as  I  saw  the  sunlight  flashing 
upon  the  points  of  their  spears.  Could  it,  indeed,  be 
Alfred  Rivers,  so  lately  from  staid  New  England,  who 
rode  as  a  leader  in  that  wild  array? 

Don  Hernando  rodie  at  the  head  of  his  troop,  his 
face  white  and  rigid,  gtizing  steadily  before  him.  As 
I  came  near  he  turned  his  head  slightly,  and  his  stern 
eyes  for  a  moment  met  my  own.  I  fancied  that  for  an 


94  ALMIRANTE 

instant  their  expression  seemed  to  soften,  and  that  a 
faint  look  of  something  like  gratitude  shone  from  their 
dark  depths.  However,  I  had  but  a  short  time  in 
which  to  observe  the  change,  if,  indeed,  it  were  any 
thing  more  than  imagination,  since  an  instant  later, 
with  a  slight  bow  to  me,  he  turned  his  face  forward 
once  more  and  rode  steadily  onward,  his  eyes  upon 
the  trail. 

Carlos,  when  I  first  drew  near,  was  riding  by  his 
father's  side,  but  he  now  urged  his  horse  near  mine, 
and  after  a  moment  we  were  galloping  abreast,  our 
leather  leggings  almost  touching.  We  rode  thus  for 
a  while  in  silence,  but  at  last,  leaning  toward  me  and 
speaking  scarcely  above  a  whisper,  Carlos  asked : 

"Alfred,  what  does  this  all  mean?" 

11  What  does  what  mean,  Carlos  ?" 

"  This  mystery.  My  father's  motive  in  one  day 
bidding  me  prove  myself  a  brother  to  you  in  friend 
ship,  and  the  next  exhorting  me  to  forget,  if  possible, 
that  we  had  ever  met.  As  if  it  were  possible 
for  me  to  forget  my  savior,  my  preserver,  the  friend 
that  I  loved  !  I  ask  again,  Alfred — what  does  this 
mean  ?" 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  Carlos.  I  do  not  entirely 
understand  it  myself,  and  what  I  do  know  ij  your 
father's  secret." 


THE  PURSUIT  95 

He  took  my  hand  in  his  and  pressed  it  warmly, 
saying  : 

"  I  understand  you.  Let  it  pass.  But  O,  Alfred  ! 
if  the  yielding  up  of  my  life  could  heal  this  cruel 
breach,  believe  me  I  would  give  it  gladly  ;  for,  next 
to  the  affection  I  have  for  Ina  and  my  father,  is  my 
love  for  you.  Well,  'tis  idle  to  hope  for  everything 
we  wish  for  on  this  sad  earth.  God  grant  that  we 
may  rescue  my  sister  from  that  inhuman  hound,  and 
then  let  come  what  may." 

I  was  about  to  reply,  when  Don  Hernando  sud 
denly  checked  his  horse  and  sprang  to  the  ground,  ex 
claiming  excitedly : 

"  Dismount,  dismount !  Quick,  for  your  lives  1 
Kneel  !  kneel  down  !  " 

His  men  unhesitatingly  obeyed  him,  and  I  directed 
my  followers  to  do  likewise,  setting  the  example  my 
self. 

We  had  been  riding  across  a  level  and  nearly  cir 
cular  plain,  several  miles  in  diameter  and.  surrounded 
by  a  ridge  of  low  hills,  while  its  entire  surface  was  cov 
ered  with  a  tall  growth  of  grass,  which  swept  our 
knees  as  we  rode.  Consequently  to  dismount  and 
kneel  was  to  effectually  conceal  ourselves,  while  as  for 
our  horses,  half  buried  as  they  were  in  the  grass,  an 
observer  would  need  to  be  within  a  short  distance  to 
distinguish  them  from  the  wild  animals  which  roamed 
over  all  the  land  about  in  countless  numbers. 


96  ALMIKANTE 

There  was  no  necessity  for  Don  Hernando  to  ex 
plain  the  cause  of  his  excitement,  since  it  had  taken 
us  but  an  instant  to  discover  it.  Along  the  summit 
of  the  ridge  separating  the  plain  I  have  mentioned 
from  the  ocean,  a  horseman  was  riding  at  what,  as  far 
as  we  could  judge,  was  the  utmost  limit  of  his  horse's 
speed.  He  appeared  to  be  proceeding  in  the  direc 
tion  of  my  hacienda,  and  as  both  Don  Hernando  and 
myself  felt  assured  it  could  be  none  of  our  own 
people,  it  was  but  natural  that  we  should  regard  the 
stranger  with  some  suspicion.  When  we  first  ob 
served  him  he  was  just  beyond  the  crest  of  the  ridge, 
riding  parallel  with  it,  and  consequently  we  were  only 
able  to  see  the  horse's  head  as  he  rose  and  fell  in  his 
rapid  gallop,  and  the  form  of  the  rider  from  the  waist 
upward.  Soon,  however,  they  swerved  slightly  m 
their  course  and  appeared  upon  the  very  summit  of 
the  ridge  outlined  against  the  sky.  The  wonderful 
clearness  of  the  atmosphere  served  to  render  the  fig 
ures  of  both  horse  and  rider  unusually  distinct,  and 
an  exclamation  burst  from  us  all: 

"A  woman  !" 

Don  Hernando  alone  did  not  speak,  but  continued 
for  a  moment  longer  to  watch  the  flying  rider  with 
silent  and  intense  scrutiny.  Then  lifting  his  eyes 
reverently  to  heaven  he  said,  low  but  fervently  : 

"  Mother  of  God,  I  thank  thee!     It  is  my  child  !  " 


AT  BAY  97 


CHAPTER    XII. 

AT    BAY. 

A  look  of  joy  became  instantly  visible  upon  every 
face,  but  Don  Hernando  gave  us  all  an  earnest  warn 
ing  to  restrain  ourselves,  and  when  Carlos,  exclaim 
ing,  "  Ina  !  my  sister  !  Praise  be  to  heaven  !  she  has 
escaped  him  !  Let  us  show  her  we  are  near  !"  would 
have  sprung  to  his  feet,  his  father  laid  a  heavy  hand 
upon  his  arm,  muttering,  while  the  look  of  gratitude 
faded  from  his  eyes  and  gave  place  to  a  fell  gleam  of 
vengeance. 

"  Boy,  be  still !  We  can  secure  her  safety  now  at 
any  moment,  but  wait.  She  will  be  pursued,  and  one 
of  her  pursuers,  he  who  will  be  foremost  in  the  chase, 
must  this  day  receive  his  reward." 

A  fierce  and  approving  murmur  rose  from  all,  and 
with  one  accord  we  crouched  closer  to  the  ground, 
and  watched  the  flying  girl  and  the  ridge  along  which 
she  had  come  with  intense  eagerness.  Our  patience 
was  not  long  tried.  Soon  a  steed  and  rider,  almost 
colossal  in  their  apparent  proportions,  rose  suddenly 
into  view,  and  a  common  exclamation  was  uttered  by 
all: 

"  Ramon  Estrada  I" 


98  ALMIRANTB 

"  Yes,"  said  Don  Hernando.  "  Who  else  of  nis 
robber  band  possesses  such  a  horse." 

But  the  swiftness  with  which  the  new-comer  sped 
along  the  ridge  called  forth  audible  expressions  of 
uneasiness  from  many  of  our  followers.  Don  Her 
nando  endeavored  to  reassure  them. 

"Restrain  yourselves,"  he  said ;  "  Ina  will  be  safe — 
she  is  riding  directly  for  the  Rivers  hacienda,  and  the 
swiftness  of  Estrada's  steed  will  only  secure  its  rider's 
destruction.  Can  you  not  see  that  in  the  eagerness 
of  his  pursuit  he  has  left  his  companions  far  behind, 
perhaps  many  miles  ?  They  are  separated,  and  it 
will  be  our  care  to  see  that  they  do  not  again  come 
together.  Let  him  but  pass  out  of  sight  beyond  that 
higher  peak,  and  then  our  work  will  begin.  Till 
then — patience  ! " 

Ina  had  already  disappeared  behind  the  hill  re 
ferred  to  by  Don  Hernando,  and  a  few  moments  later 
her  pursuer  was  also  hidden  from  our  view.  Then 
Almirante  sprang  to  his  feet,  his  eyes  blazing. 

"  To  your  saddles  !  "  he  cried.  "Alfred  Rivers,  if 
you  will  take  my  orders,  ride  back  as  we  have  come 
and  prevent  the  traitor  escaping  to  the  eastward. 
Hem  him  in  between  yourselves  and  the  ocean.  We 
will  ride  up  the  ridge  and  follow  directly  in  his  tracks 
Your  horses  are  fresher  than  ours,  and  I  give  you  the 
longer  route.  Will  you  do  this  for  me  ?  " 


AT  BAY  99 

For  an  answer  I  whirled  my  horse  about  and  started 
back  at  full  speed,  my  men  closely  following,  while  the 
Almirante  party  almost  at  the  same  instant  darted 
away  toward  the  ridge.  For  a  time  we  were  visi 
ble  to  each  other,  but  before  long  we  reached  the 
mouth  of  the  valley  through  which  we  had  ridden 
that  morning,  and  entering  it  were  lost  to  their  view,. 
and  they  to  ours. 

We  rode  on  in  silence,  as  I  had  little  inclination  to- 
talk,  even  if  the  rapid  rate  of  our  progress  had  not 
rendered  it  almost  out  of  the  question.  Added  to 
this,  I  was  several  lengths  in  advance  of  all  my  com> 
panions  save  one,  my  major-domo,  Sanchez,  a  one 
time  follower  of  my  father,  now  old  and  gray,  but 
bold  and  active  as  in  youth,  and  he  was  by  nature  re 
served  and  taciturn.  I  well  knew,  however,  that  he 
was  devoted  to  my  interests,  and  that  when  he  saw  a 
necessity  for  it  he  would  not  hold  back  his  advice. 

After  a  long,  hard  ride  we  drew  rein  for  an  instant 
at  the  point  where  the  low  range  of  hills  which  formed 
the  eastern  wall,  so  to  speak,  of  the  valley,  spread 
widely  away  from  that  toward  the  ocean,  and  becom 
ing  still  more  depressed  melted,  as  it  were,  into  the 
undulating  plains  which  lay  between  my  own  home 
and  the  hacienda  of  Almirante.  Both  were  visible 
from  the  point  where  we  sat  upon  our  panting  horses 


loo  ALMIRANTE 

but  it  was  in  vain  that  we  looked  for  a  sight  of  Ina 
Almirante  or  her  pursuer. 

The  hill,  from  the  summit  of  which  Don  Her- 
nando  had  first  shown  me  the  domain  which  he  called 
mine,  was  upon  our  right  as  we  faced  southward  and 
partially  behind  us,  and  of  course  concealed  every 
thing  between  itself  and  the  ocean.  Sanchez  sug 
gested  that  some  one  ride  to  the  summit,  as  from  that 
elevation  there  was  scarcely  a  point  within  a  radius  of 
ten  miles  which  could  not  be  observed,  and 
offered  himself  to  be  the  one  to  make  the  re- 
eonnoissance.  The  idea  was  in  my  own  mind  before 
he  utteied  the  suggestion,  but  in  my  impatience  and 
excitement  I  could  not  leave  its  execution  to  another  ; 
so  bidding  Sanchez  lead  the  men  slowly  forward, 
skirting  the  base  of  the  hill,  I  turned  my  horse  and 
rode  directly  toward  the  summit. 

As  I  drew  near  the  top  I  advanced  with  more 
caution,  glancing  constantly  from  side  to  side,  desir 
ing  if  possible  to  discover  the  objects  of  my  quest 
without  myself  being  seen,  at  least  by  one  of  them. 
Not,  however,  until  I  reached  the  highest  peak  of  the 
hill  did  I  observe  anything  to  engage  my  special 
attention.  Then  an  exclamation  of  rage  and  horror 
burst  involuntarily  from  my  lips,  though  I  had  little 
reason  to  be  startled  at  what  I  saw. 
The  elevation  from  which  I  was  gazing,  was,  as  I 


AT  BAY  101 

"have  already  mentioned,  the  highest  point  of  a  ridge 
which,  in  the  form  of  a  lofty  promontory,  ran  far  out 
into  the  sea.  To  descend  from  it  to  the  water's  edge 
was  impossible,  since  its  sides  and  end  formed  an  un 
broken  chain  of  perpendicular  and  overhanging  cliffs. 
Such,  moreover,  was  the  character  of  the  coast-line 
for  miles.  Along  the  northern  verge  of  the  promon 
tory  Ina  Almirante  was  riding  at  the  full  speed  of  her 
horse,  while  almost  though  not  quite  abreast  of  her, 
but  some  distance  further  away  from  the  cliffs,  rode 
Ramon  Estrada.  It  was  apparent  that  he  had  by 
some  means  succeeded  in  partially  intercepting  her, 
and  it  was  his  evident  purpose  to  maintain  his  pres 
ent  position  until  the  end  of  the  promontory 
was  reached,  where  she  would  be  completely  in  his 
power.  Ina  was  either  unacquainted  with,  or  had 
else  forgotten,  the  geography  of  this  part  of  the  coast, 
and  did  not  know  that  with  every  rod  she  advanced 
she  was  rendering  her  escape  less  possible. 

I  clinched  my  hands  and  muttered  between  my  set 
teeth : 

"You  vile  hound!  You  have  trapped  her  and 
you  are  trapped  yourself ! " 

I  paused  but  a  moment  to  turn  to  my  followers,  who 
were  already  half-way  around  the  hill,  and  wave  them 
onward ;  then,  shouting  aloud  to  attract  Estrada's 
attention  and  if  possible  cause  him  to  cease  his  pur- 


102  ALMIKANTE 

suit,  I  rode  down  the  slope  toward  him.  He  was  a 
long  distance  away,  yet  he  heard  my  ^.ce,  and,  turn 
ing  his  head,  seemed  instantly  to  recognize  me,  for, 
waving  his  clinched  hand  with  a  gesture  of  hate  and 
defiance,  he  whirled  his  horse  about  and  rode  to  meet 
me.  I  unslung  my  carbine,  resolving  to  fire  as  soon 
as  we  were  within  range  and  to  make  use  of  my  pistols 
afterwards  if  necessary.  But  the  end  was  not  quite  yet. 

A  sudden  shout  attracted  my  attention,  and,  turn 
ing  my  head  for  an  instant,  I  saw  to  my  right,  and  a 
short  distance  behind  me,  Don  Hernando  coming 
toward  us  at  the  full  speed  of  his  horse.  He  had,  as  I 
afterwards  ascertained,  adopted  the  same  plan  that  I 
had,  having  left  his  troop  in  concealment,  under  charge 
of  Carlos,  while  he  ascended  an  eminence  to  recon 
noitre.  What  followed  was  precisely  as  it  had  been  in 
my  own  case.  He  had  lost  control  of  himself,  and, 
only  pausing  to  signal  to  his  followers,  had  dashed 
recklessly  forward,  his  one  thought  being  to  fly  to  the 
rescue  of  his  child. 

I  saw  his  men  following  him,  though  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  behind,  and  Ramon  Estrada  saw  them  also. 
He  was  no  coward;  he  would,  I  doubt  not,  have 
rejoiced  with  a  savage  delight  to  have  met  me  in  mor 
tal  combat  alone,  and  the  very  fact  of  his  having  dared 
to  pursue  Ina  as  he  had  back  to  the  near  neighbor 
hood  of  her  kindred  and  friends,  whom  he  must  have 


AT  BAY 


Tmown  would  be  aroused  and  searching  for  her,  was 
sufficient  proof  of  his  reckless  courage  ;  nevertheless, 
when  he  saw  by  what  odds  he  would  be  opposed,  his 
natural  impulse  was  flight,  and  he  spurred  his  horse 
across  the  promontory,  with  the  evident  intention  of 
passing  between  me  and  the  southern  boundary  of  the 
headland,  and  escaping  thus  toward  the  interior.  But 
as  he  reached  the  summit  of  the  ridge  he  stopped 
short,  for  the  sight  of  my  followers  rapidly  approach 
ing  along  the  shore  was  all  that  was  necessary  to  con 
vince  him  that  flight  was  impossible. 

For  a  moment  he  sat  almost  motionless  upon  his 
steed,  turning  his  head  slowly  as  if  seeking  a  weak 
spot  in  the  cordon  of  his  foes  ;  then,  seemingly  con 
vinced  that  all  hope  was  lost,  he  brandished  both  arms 
for  an  instant  over  his  head  with  an  action  of  inde 
scribable  rage  and  maniacal  fury,  and,  whirling  his 
horse  once  more,  dashed  directly  and  at  his  utmost 
speed  for  Ina. 

Sh2  had  reined  in  her  steed  but  a  moment 
before,  and  was  glancing  eagerly  from  one  to 
another  of  us,  evidently  striving  to  understand 
what  she  saw,  but  now,  with  a  scream  of  terror 
she  once  more  gave  the  rein  to  her  steed  and  rode 
toward  the  end  of  the  headland.  Estrada,  spurring 
savagely,  gained  upon  her  every  instant,  and  Don 
Hernando  and  myself,  for  he  had  by  this  time  almost 


104  ALMIRANTE 

overtaken  me,  rode  after,  urging  our  horses  to  their 
utmost,  shouting,  screaming,  raving  and  cursing  wildly, 
sick  with  horror  and  despair,  for  we  saw  in  the  demon's 
hand  a  gleaming  knife.  It  seemed  but  a  second  until 
his  horse's  shoulders  were  lapping  the  flanks  of  her 
steed.  We  saw  him  lean  forward,  we  saw  her  shrink 
back  as  if  from  a  blow,  yet  she  did  not  fall,  and  still 
they  rushed  on.  Again  and  again  we  saw  the  blade 
flashing  in  his  hand,  as  he  continued  to  lean  from  his 
saddle  as  if  striving  to  reach  her.  What  could  he  be 
doing?  Suddenly  Don  Hernando  shrieked  aloud  : 

"  God  have  mercy  !  He  is  pricking  her  horse  with 
his  knife  !  He  means  to  drive  it  over  the  cliff.  O, 
Christ !  what  a  death  !" 

A  deadly  faintness  came  over  me.  I  swayed  in 
my  saddle  and  for  a  moment  everything  grew  black. 
A  sudden  report,  followed  almost  instantly  by  a  second, 
recalled  me  to  myself.  Almirante  had  fired  both  his 
pistols  at  Estrada,  but  the  outlaw  was  beyond  their 
range,  and  his  only  reply  was  a  mocking  and  maniacal 
laugh.  I  leveled  my  carbine,  but  I  dared  not  fire. 
Madly  galloping  as  we  were,  I  could  take  no  aim,  and 
where  might  not  the  bullet  strike?  Don  Hernando 
marked  my  hesitation. 

"  Fire  !  fire  !"  he  screamed.  "  If  she  must  die, 
rather  let  it  be  thus." 

There  was,  indeed,  no  time  to  be  lost,  since  they 


AT  BAY  ioS 

had  almost  reached  the  end  of  the  promontory.  I 
pressed  the  trigger.  My  bullet,  as  I  had  feared,  failed 
to  strike  him  at  whom  I  aimed,  but  buried  itself  in 
Ina's  horse.  Rearing  and  plunging,  the  stricken  ani 
mal  threw  its  rider,  and  Estrada's  horse  coming  the 
next  instant  violently  in  contact  with  it,  both  fell 
headlong  to  the  earth  together. 

We  were  beside  them  in  a  moment,  but,  as  we 
leaped  to  the  ground,  Estrada  disengaged  himself 
from  the  struggling  steeds,  and,  springing  to  his  feet, 
leveled  his  carbine  at  my  heart,  exclaiming,  while  his 
eyes  blazed  with  insane  fury  : 

"  Bane  of  my  life !  you  at  least  shall  die ! " 

My  pistols  were  in  the  saddle  holsters,  and  not  an 
instant  was  given  me  to  secure  them.  Even  as  my 
hand  dropped  upon  my  knife-hilt,  there  was  a  loud 
report  and  a  blinding  flash.  For  one  instant  I  won 
dered  that  I  did  not  fall.  Then  I  saw  Don  Hernando 
lying  upon  the  earth  before  me,  bleeding  and  gasping. 
He  had  sprung  between  us,  and  his  own  breast  had 
been  my  shield. 

With  a  savage  curse  Estrada  sprang  toward  me,  his 
drawn  knife  in  his  hand.  I  swerved  from  the  blow 
and  drove  my  own  weapon  deep  in  his  shoulder. 
The  warm  blood  spirted  on  my  hand.  Then  my 
sight  seemed  to  grow  dim  for  a  moment,  and  my 
.memory  of  what  happened  for  awhile  thereafter  is 


106  ALMIRANTE 

strangely  confused.  I  remember  struggling  and  swaying 
back  and  forth  with  something  clutched  fast  in  my 
arms;  and  I  remember  that  something  being  rudely 
torn  from  me.  I  can  recall  the  look  which  the  usu 
ally  fair  and  gentle  face  of  Carlos  then  wore,  chang 
ing  its  beauty  fro: a  an  angel's  to  a  demon's,  as  with 
his  slight  arms  he  flung  his  stalwart  foe  to  the  ground 
beside  his  father,  and  pressed  his  knees  upon  him  as 
if  to  grind  him  into  the  earth.  I  have  dim  memories 
of  how  two  bands  of  swarthy,  wild-eyed  horsemen 
came  rushing  down  upon  us;  of  the  wild  cries  they 
uttered  at  the  sight  of  Don  Hernando's  bleedingbody, 
and  of  how  they  sprang  from  their  steeds  and  seized 
upon  his  murderer,  crowding  around  and  above  him 
like  a  herd  of  hungry  wolves,  striking,  stabbing  and 
spearing,  till  at  last  a  lifeless  and  bloody  something, 
bruised  and  battered  and  gashed  beyond  all  sem 
blance  of  humanity,  was  dragged  to  the  verge  of  the 
cliff  and  flung  into  the  sea. 

And  beside  my  father's  grave,  with  his  rescued 
daughter  kneeling  beside  him,  striving  to  staunch  the 
life-blood  flowing  from  his  wound,  lay  Hernando  Al- 
mirante,  dying,  but  with  a  happier  look  in  his  dark 
eyes  than  I  had  ever  dreamed  could  dwell  there. 


EXPIATION  107 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

EXPIATION. 

"Alfred" 

"  What  is  it  ?" 

"  Will  you  come  to  my  father  ?  He  is  asking  for 
you." 

I  was  sitting  upon  the  ground,  sunk  in  a  kind  of 
stupor,  when  these  words  from  Carlos  aroused  me  to 
a  sense  of  what  was  going  on.  Rising  with  difficulty, 
for  excitement  and  exertion  seemed  to  have  com 
pletely  exhausted  me,  I  followed  him  to  where  his 
father  lay. 

Don  Hernando  lifted  his  eyes  to  mine  as  I  drew 
near,  but  said  no  word,  only  motioning  me  to  seat 
myself  beside  him.  I  did  so  silently,  and,  turning  to 
his  son  and  daughter,  he  said  : 

"  My  children,  leave  us  for  a  moment.  What  I 
have  to  tell  you  will  soon  learn  from  Alfred,  but  now 
I  have  neither  time  nor  strength  to  explain  all  it  would 
be  necessary  you  should  know  to  understand  what  I 
say.  But  Alfred  knows  much  of  it  already." 

Ina  and  Carlos  withdrew,  sadly  and  silently,  and 
when  they  were  a  few  paces  away,  Don  Hernando 
fixed  his  eyes  upon  my  face,  saying  huskily: 


io8  ALMIRANTE 

"  Alfred,  hear  me  !  I  took  your  father's  life.  That 
you  know — but  you  do  not  know  that  when  I  did  it  I 
believed  myself  to  be  avenging  the  injured  honor  of 
my  sister,  your  own  mother,  upon  him  whip  had  be 
trayed  it." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  breathing  hard,  but  as  I 
was  about  to  speak,  he  motioned  me  to  refrain,  and 
continued  : 

"  I  had  been  in  confinement  for  many  months,  for 
the  authorities,  having  rid  themselves  of  my  fellow 
insurgents,  were  inclined  to  pay  but  little  heed  to  the 
pledges  they  had  given.  Upon  one  pretext  and  an 
other  I  was  detained  for  more  than  a  year  after  the 
departure  of  your  father  and  the  remainder  of  our 
party.  At  last  I  was  released.  Better  that  I  had 
never  been  !" 

Again  did  he  break  off  abruptly,  but  after  a  brief 
pause  once  more  proceeded  : 

"  One  of  our  band  had  remained  in  Mexico, 
Ramon  Estrada,  a  mere  youth — young  in  years  but 
old  in  villainy.  Up  to  that  time,  however,  he  had 
never  given  us  cause  to  think  him  other  than  a  keen 
witted  boy.  A  distant  relation  of  ours,  he  had  been 
brought  up  in  my  father's  house,  and  had,  unknowa 
to  any  of  us,  conceived  a  passion  for  my  foster  sister, 
Lola.  So  you  can  see  how  from  his  very  boyhood 
dates  his  hatred  of  your  father  and  your  fathers's  race. 


EXPIATION  109 

While  I  was  in  confinement  he  was  frequently  allowed 
to  visit  me.  He  was  already  an  adept  in  deception^ 
He  never  made  a  direct  accusation  against  Alva — so 
I  had  always  called  your  father — yet  he  contrived  to 
fill  my  mind  with  suspicions — I  scarcely  know  of  what. 
He  accomplished  this  result  so  skillfully  and  by  such 
imperceptible  degrees  that  I  knew  not  when  it  was 
affected,  but  by  the  time  I  was  finally  released  I  was 
ready  to  believe  anything  of  him  whom  a  year  before 
I  would  have  trusted  with  my  life.  Then  he  met  me 
with  a  dark  hint  of  a  wrong  done  to  my  sister.  He 
told  me  of  a  rumor  that  after  my  capture  the  two  had 
been  united  in  a  union  unblessed  by  the  church.  Half 
maddened,  I  set  myself  to  investigate  the  damning  tale, 
and  ascertained  that  they  had  indeed  sailed  from  the 
port  as  husband  and  wife,  but  I  could  find  no  proof  of 
their  marriage.  My  pure-souled  sister  !  my  brave, 
true-hearted  Alva  !  to  think  that  I  could  wrong  them 
so,  and  at  the  instigation  of  such  a  villain.  He  even 
made  me  believe  that  Alva,  by  some  secret  machina 
tions,  had  caused  the  long  delay  in  my  release. 

"  But  why  dwell  upon  my  folly  ?  I  seized  the  first 
opportunity  to  sail  for  San  Francisco,  resolved  to  ex 
act  either  reparation  or  vengeance  from  the  betrayer 
of  my  sister.  When  I  reached  the  port  I,  <f>f  course, 
did  not  delay  to  send  word  of  my  coming,  but,  secur 
ing  a  horse  and  obtaining  directions  as  to  its  location,. 


no  ALMIRANTE 

•rode  immediately  to  your  father's  settlement.  Your 
mother  must  have  told  you  of  my  meeting  with  her 
and  my  first  sight  of  yourself.  Excited  by  the  sud 
den  and  unlooked-for  encounter,  and  almost  over 
whelmed  by  the  flood  of  bitter  thoughts  which  swept 
through  my  mind  in  consequence,  I  rode  blindly  away 
from  the  spot,  and  before  I  well  knew  whither  I  was 
going,  reached  the  cliffs.  I  rode  swiftly  along  the 
verge,  striving  to  flee  from  my  own  thoughts,  and  here 
upon  this  very  spot  I  met  your  father. 

"  He  uttered  a  glad  cry  when  he  saw  me,  and  hur 
ried  towards  me  with  outstretched  hands  and  eyes 
dancing  with  delight,  exclaiming — '  Hernan  !  Her- 
nan  !' — for  so  among  my  family  I  had  always  been 
•called.  We  both  wore  swords,  as  was  then  almost 
universally  the  custom  among  rancheros,  and  my  only 
answer  to  his  greeting  was  to  draw  mine  from  its  scab 
bard  and  raise  it  as  if  to  cleave  him  to  the  saddle. 
He  started,  aghast,  exclaiming  : 

"  '  Hernan  !  are  you  mad  ?' 

"'  If  I  am  not  it  is  no  fault  of  yours  !'  I  answered, 
continuing,  savagely  :  '  We  need  not  waste  words  ; 
you  well  know  my  errand.' 

"'What  is  your  errand?5  he  asked  with  what  I 
then  thought  the  pretended  innocence  of  a  practiced 
hypocrite. 

"'To  have  your  life  or  force  you   to  repair  the 


EXPIATION  nu 

wrong  you  have  done  my  sister ! '  I  cried,  almost 
speechless  with  rage. 

"A  dark  flush  rose  in  his  cheeks  and  his  eyes  flashed 
fire.  His  hand  rested  upon  his  sword  hilt,  and  I 
looked  for  him  to  draw  his  weapon  and  attack  me. 
But  in  a  moment  a  sudden  change  came  over  his  face. 
The  look  of  anger  faded  and  gave  place  to  what,  in 
my  madness,  seemed  to  me  a  scornful  smile,  as  her 
asked  : 

"  'Do  you  mean  I  must  marry  her?' 

"'I  do!'  I  answered. 

"  The  look  of  amusement  deepened  on  his  face, 
and  he  replied : 

" '  Hernan,  you  must  ask  something  else.  This  I 
cannot  do,  because — ' 

"  I  did  not  allow  him  to  finish,  but  maddened  by 
what  I  thought  his  contempt  for  me  and  mine,  spurred 
forward  and  struck  at  him  with  all  my  strength.  He 
swerved  his  horse  aside,  and,  drawing  his  sword  with 
the  quickness  of  lightning,  parried  the  blow,  angrily 
exclaiming  at  the  same  instant : 

"  *  Hernan,  you  are  a  hot-headed  fool  •  Listen  to 
me  !' 

"  But  I  would  not  listen ;  but,  almost  insane  with 
rage,  renewed  my  attack  with  the  ferocity  of  a  wild 
beast.  But  he  was  a  much  better  swordsman  than  I, 
and  our  combat  was  of  the  briefest,  for  in  a  moment 


112  ALMIRANTE 

my  weapon  was  struck  from  my  hand  and  sent 
whirling  over  the  cliff.  His  own  blade  gleamed 
at  my  breast,  and  I  thought  my  hour  had  come,  but 
instead  of  striking  he  flung  his  weapon  upon  the 
ground  and  laughed  aloud.  That  was  the  last  straw ! 
Monster  and  murderer  that  I  was  !  while  he  sat  there, 
unarmed  and  unguarded,  I  leaned  suddenly  forward 
and  drove  my  dagger  deep  in  his  breast !  Stay  !  stay, 
Alfred  !  Do  not  start  from  me.  Hear  me  to  the  end  ! 
He  never  uttered  a  cry,  not  even  a  moan  ;  only  sat  for 
a  full  moment  motionless  upon  his  horse,  gazing  upon 
me  with  such  eyes  !  then  uttered  in  a  tone  in  which 
there  was  no  anger  but  only  sorrowing  reproach  : 

141 0,  Hernan!  Hernan !  how  could  you  make 
your  sister  a  widow  ?  How  could  you  take  my  life?' 

"The  full  consciousness  of  my  insane  blunder  and 
dastardly  crime  rushed  instantly  through  my  mind, 
and  with  a  cry  of  horror  I  sprang  from  my  horse  and 
caught  him  in  my  arms  as  he  fell.  I  laid  him  upon 
the  ground  and  flung  myself  down  beside  him,  mad 
with  remorse.  He  only  spoke  once,  saying  : 

" '  Hernan,  she  is  my  wife.  How  dared  you  doubt 
it?  But  care  for  her  and  God  pardon  you  for  this.' 

"  Then,  with  the  last  effort  of  his  life,  he  drew  the 
weapon  from  his  wound  and  flung  it  over  the  cliff — 
and  died." 

Don   Hernando   ceased   speaking,  in   unutterable 


EXPIATION  113 

emotion,  and  I  sat  motionless  beside  him,  too  deeply 
agitated  for  words.  Soon  he  once  more  aroused  him 
self  and  continued  : 

"  Your  mother  has  never  known  of  the  cause  of 
rny  dark  deed.  I  could  not  bear  that  she  should 
know  how  I  had  wronged  her  in  my  suspicions.  I 
preferred  rather  to  bear  her  unforgiving  hatred,  and 
to  banish  myself  from  her  presence.  I  made  my 
home  near  by  that  I  might  fulfill  Alva's  last  request. 
But  my  life  seemed  blasted .  My  troth  was  already 
plighted  to  the  lady  who  a  year  later  became  my  wife, 
•else  I  had  never  married.  She  came  to  me  from 
Mexico  under  charge  of  Padre  Francisco.  In  him  I 
found  the  priest  who  had  performed  the  marriage  ser 
vice  for  your  father  and  my  sister.  How  Ramon  Es 
trada  succeeded  in  convincing  me  of  his  innocence  of 
any  wrong  intention,  I  have  no  time  to  explain.  He 
<lid  so,  and  for  years  thereafter  was  my  trusted  ad 
viser.  He  sought  your  life,  and  also  my  son's,  that 
be  might  succeed  to  the  inheritance  of  both.  And  I 
have  trusted  him  all  these  years,  and  of  late  even 
thought  of  giving  him  my  child!  Great  heaven!  to 
what  lengths  my  blind  infatuation  would  have  led  me! 
But  enough  of  him.  He  has  gone  to  his  doom, 
and  my  own  draws  nigh.  Alfred,  I  have  told  you  all. 
You  have  heard  of  my  crime  and  its  cause  ;  my  re- 
rii-ise  and  repentance  ;  you  know  how  I  have  striven 


114  ALMIRANTE 

to  atone  for  my  guilt  ;  and  knowing  this,  can  you 
now  give  me  the  hand  you  once  offered  me,  and  which 
my  conscience  would  not  then  let  me  take  ?" 

'*  My  father  forgave  you,"  I  answered,  clasping  his 
hand,  "  and  you  have  this  day  given  your  life  for 
mine." 

His  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  he  murmured 
huskily  : 

"  Jesu  bless  you,  Alfred.  Bring  me  to  your 
mother." 

****** 

In  the  same  room  where  I  had  myself  found  her 
after  those  long  years  of  separation,  she  awaited  his 
coming.  I  had  reached  home  first  and  told  her  all, 
and  when  the  pale-faced  bearers  brought  him  in  upon 
his  rude  litter,  and  laid  their  silent  burden  at  her 
feet,  she  knelt  beside  him  with  a  sudden  sharp  and 
bitter  cry : 

"  My  brother,  O,  my  brother!" 

He  clasped  her  hands  in  his  and  pressed  them 
upon  his  heart.  His  lips  moved,  but  only  my  mother, 
his  children  rnd  myself  caught  the  low-spoken  words 
— "  How  long,  how  long  since  I  have  heard  that 
name!"  My  mother  wept,  and  while  I,  though  almost 
overcome  myself,  was  endeavoring  to  soothe  her  grief, 
the  priest  entered,  for  he  had  long  before  been  sum 
moned,  and  to  him  the  dying  man  resigned  himself  to- 


EXPIATION.  115 

receive  the  last  rites  of  the  Chruch,  When  they 
were  ended  he  turned  to  us  once  more.  He  embraced 
his  son,  and  drawing  his  daughter  to  him  kissed  her 
fondly  and  placed  her  hand  in  my  own.  His  eyes 
lingered  for  a  moment  lovingly  upon  our  faces,  and 
then,  turning  to  my  mother,  he  extended  his  arms  to 
ward  her,  saying: 

"  Lola,  my  sister,  I  have  lived  all  these  years  upon 
the  hope  of  one  day  winning  your  forgiveness,  and 
now " 

His  voice  failed  him,  but  she  bent  down  until  her 
cheek  rested  for  a  moment  on  his  own.  When  she 
lifted  her  head  his  eyes  were  already  closing,  but  his 
lips  still  moved  and  he  whispered,  so  low  we  could 
scarcely  hear: 

"Oh,  Alva,  Alva!" 

And  so  he  died,  with  my  father's  name  last  upon 
his  lips. 

The  priest  knelt  by  the  body,  murmuring  the 
prayers  for  the  dead,  my  mother  and  Carlos  kneeling 
beside  him  in  silent  grief.  Ina  wept  in  my  arms.  I 
was  grieved  to  the  heart,  but  it  was  not  with  a  hopeless 
sorrow,  for  I  knew  no  life  could  be  desolate  when 
blessed  with  friends  and  kindred  and  love. 

THE 


Were  it  not  for  the  dread  of  this  nauseating  and  miserable  sickness, 
ocean  voyages  would  be  preferable  to  many,  both  for  health  and  pleas 
ure.  When  statistics  show  that  eighty-five  per  cent,  of  ocean  travelers 
are  subject  to  sea-sickness,  it  may  readily  be  understood  why  a  prejudice 
exists  in  favor  of  the  rail.  It  may  not  be  generally  known  on  this  coast, 
as  it  is  in  theEastern  States  and  Europe,  that  a  preventative  and  cure 
may  be  found  in 

Dr,  Rowas'  Famous  Remedy  for  Sea-sickness. 

To  be  obtained  from  all  Druggists  and  from 

I        R      PIT   PRT     ^'  W<  cor>  Kearny  and  California  Sts 
1-.     n.     C.L-L-C.n  1   ,  SAN  FRANCISCO. 

SOHMER  &  CU., 

Hallet  &  Cumston, 
Newby  &  Evans, 


PIPE  •  HND  •  REED  •  ORGHNS. 

BYRON  MAUZY  308-  "Stf&SZE?"  ST 


JNO.    R.    HILLMAN, 

Manager  San   Francisco   Department 

Amazon    Insurance    Company 

American    Central    Insurance    Company 
Liberty    Insurance    Company 

Pacific    Fire    Insurance    Company 

ROLLA  V.  WATT,  317  CALIFORNIA  ST. 

General  Agent  San  Francisco 


An  Old  Californian  Recognizes  an  Old  Friend  of  Former  Days, 

One  of  the  oldest  living  Californians  is  George  W.  Vincent,  of  this 
city.  He  came  to  California  in  1839,  Some  of  his  early  experiences 
are  full  of  interest.  He  says  that  in  those  days  a  doctor  was  a  curiosity. 
The  people  had  to  resort  to  nature  when  bodily  ills  assailed  them.  He 
refers  especially  to  an  herb  that  they  used  to  have  recourse  to  for  all 
disorders  of  the  bowels,  the  name  of  which  has  escaped  him.  He 
reports  that  its  effects  were  simply  marvelous,  and  regretted  for  years 
that  he  had  lost  track  of  it.  Let  it  be  now  said  tha^t  Joy's  Vegetable 
Sarsaparilla  is  a  vegetable  bowel  remedy  of  California  origin,  and  the 
following  letter  will  be  understood: 

THE  ED  WIN  JO  Y  CO: 

DEAR  SIRS:  I  was  recently  induced  to  try  a  bottle  of  your  California  preparation, 
Joy's  Vegetable  Sarsaparilla,  and  I  recognize  in  it  the  herb  that  the  Mexicans  used  to 
give  us  away  back  in  the  "  Forties  "  for  bowel  disturbances.  As  soon  as  I  recognized  it,  I 
knew  it  would  help  me,  and  it  has,  for  although  I  have  had  constipation  for  over  twenty 
years,  I  have  had  less  trouble  since  taking  it  than  at  any  time  during  that  period.  I  can 
now  sleep  well,  and  am  in  splendid  condition. 

I  am,  yours  truly,  GEO.  W.  VINCENT. 


NEWS—  ENTERPRISE-CIRCULATION 


THE  DAILY  TRIBUNE  and  WEEKLY  TRIBUNE  are  the 
Two  Leading  Papers  of  Alameda  County.  They 
contain  Full  and  Exclusive  Association  Press  Reports,  and 
are  metropolitan  in  every  department. 

TRIBUNE    PUBLISHING    CO. 

W.  E.  DARGIE,  President  T.  T.  DARGIE,  Secretary 

W.  E.  BOND,  Business  Manager 


The  Old,  Reliable  House. 


ROOS    BROS. 


Leading  Clothiers  and  Furnishers, 


27,  29,  31,  33,  35,  37  KEARNY  STREET. 

ONE   PRICE.  Occupying  Two  Entire  Buildings.     PLAIN    FIGURES. 

!!  ™  "MONARCH'S"'*™!! 


A    Chance    for   Two    Libraries   for 
Almost   Nothing. 

$2.50  PER  MOMH  FOR  12  MONTHS  GIVES  YOU  THE 

Americanized  Encyclopedia  Britannica 

An  Inexhaustible  Storehouse  of  Fact  and  Knowledge,  and 

'THE      DAILY     EXAMINER." 

A  Continuous  and  Complete  Record  of  Current  News  and 
Information. 


Take  the  Chance  while  it  is  Offered! 


N.   B. — Post    yourself  also   on    the    splendid    premiums  offered  for 
the  •  •  W  EEK  LY    EX  A  MINER." 


Do  You  Want  Real  Estate? 


THEN     SEE     THE 


CARNALL-FlTZHUGH-HOKPINSCo. 


The  Leading  Dealers  of  California, 


They    (Buy    and    Sell    all    kinds    of  City    and 

Country  (Real  'Property  throughout 

the  State. 


Maps,    Catalogues    and     Printed     Matter     Mailed 
Free  to  Any  Address.    Eastern  Corres 
pondence    Solicited. 


CARNALL-FITZHUGH-  HOPKINS  CO, 

624   Market  St.          San    Francisco 


Opposite    Palace    Hotel. 


THE  BALDWIN 

The  Leading  Hotel  of  San  Francisco,  Cal. 

And  one-  of   the  Best  Appointed    Hotels  in    the  World,  with 
Every    Modern    Improvement 

Location  Unsurpassed,    Tourists'  and  Commerc     Headquarters 

SITUATED  ON  MARKET  STREET 

At  the  intersect*  >n  of  Powell  and  Eddy  Sts.,  and  fronting  on  Four  principal  streets 


The 


It   is  near   tin-  popular  places  of  amusement,  and  the  principal  business  houses. 

M.irkt-t   Stre.-t    Cable  line  that  OO01  and  Cliff 

House,   and   the    new   Powell   Street  Cable  line,  with  its  beautiful 

view  of  the  Kay  and  Presidio,  la-sides  f  ui  lines  ot  Horse 

Cars  that  connect  with  all  paits  of  the  L'ity, 

pass  the  House. 

1 1  \v  is  is  brin  tf  entiie'y  renovated  throughout,  beinx  made  as  good  as  new. 

.  he   lighted  throughout  by  the  Incani  .  umiu 

has  a  -  Mann  .    The  J)inin>.r  Konin  has  In  i  n  i  •  aiitifully  frescoed,  and  the  ceiling 

ilhinnuaN'.l  uitii  over  four  hundred  .liaiimnds.    In  the  K  ..tunda  will  be  found  the  Southern 

!'i.-!;.-t  ouice,  tli.-  West,  rn  Cnion  and  the  Pacific  Postal  Telegraph  Cab; 
and  the  American  District  Messenger  service. 

llnl.  \  si.   c   \l;|;I.\i.  I  --    IN    \\\II1N<.     \I     A  I  AND 

8TATIOK8       ISAM,.  \,,r  ,  in  ,  KI  i.  T.  .  AM.  POIHIB 


PRICES  THE  SAME  AS  AT   OTHER    FIRST-CLASS   HOTELS 

E*  J.    BALDVVIX,    1 'roj  >rivyt<gr    , 


It 


